


Paper Airplanes

by PorcelainRose



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Drawing, Flashbacks, Fluff, M/M, Manga Spoilers, PTSD, Post-Canon, Sketchbook, Tea Shop, Therapy, WARNING: MANGA SPOILERS, Winged Levi, Wings of Freedom, artistic!Eren, canonverse, mental issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-05-10 00:58:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 24
Words: 72,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5562625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PorcelainRose/pseuds/PorcelainRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every day without fail, just before dusk sets in, Eren sits on the top of the great Wall Maria. He draws the things his disturbed mind conjures up, and then folds them into a paper airplanes to send out, believing they'll reach the one who owns his heart, wherever he's gone...<br/>~<br/>Canonverse. Warning: manga spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Skulls.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, lovelies! And welcome to my angst-filled fanfiction! Don't worry, there'll be fluff, too, but be prepared for tears! Tissues are available as needed; enjoy~ ;)

Eren stands on the ground. His knees are shaking. Visibly. His hands are bloodied, dripping. The crimson of his blood _plip plips_ on the ground audibly, unrhythmically. Even Levi, residing on a nearby rooftop with the pounding of titan feet headed in their direction, can hear it. Can almost even hear the drawing in and pushing out of his ragged breathing. His eyes are a mix between ravenous and fearful. Wide. He's unmoving.

"Jaeger!" Levi shouts down to him. He's sure Eren has heard, but the boy makes no move to respond. "Eren!" he calls again. Glances toward the left. The titans are approaching. Not too quickly, but they are. And if they're to survive, they have to retreat, and _now_.

" _Eren!_ " Levi nearly screams. Finally, the brat's head snaps up. He trains his wide, fearful eyes on the corporal who's balancing one foot on the gutter of a roof while holding onto one of the chords of his maneuver gear, wrapped around a chimney. "Get out of there!" he orders. "Off the ground! Now!"

Eren's eyes fall to his trembling hands. "I can't," he nearly whispers.

"What?! Stop fucking around!"

"I...I can't!" Eren repeats louder. "M-my gear is broken...and I can't transform..."

The latter was clear from the blood all but gushing from Eren's hands, but the news about his gear comes as a shock to the corporal.

"Dammit," he hisses. He retracts the cord back into his gear and allows his feet to slide the rest of the way off the roof. He braces himself for a hard landing on the ground, hoping his legs (shaking much like Eren's) will manage to catch him.

But, as most things are in this world, his hope is in vain. As soon as his feet make contact with the ground, his knees buckle and his ankle - the one he'd injured while fighting the female titan - twists and cracks. He hisses again, catching himself on his hands as the pain blooms throughout the lower half of the limb.

"Captain! Why did you do that?!" Eren exclaims, rushing to Levi's side. "Get yourself out of here!"

Biting his tongue, Levi rises to his feet, making sure to keep most of his weight on his good ankle. The booming of titan feet are becoming louder; he glances over to find at least three in pursuit of them.

Eren's in a frenzy. His clothes are bloodied from his hands, his hair disheveled and his eyes, god, the fearful, worried, innocent look in his eyes kills Levi. Those eyes have seen so much and they are still so young...

"Can't," he says. "I'm out of gas."

Eren's eyes widen fractionally and he kneels down, beginning to fumble with the tanks in his own gear. A hand, rougher than intended, stops him.

"No," Levi says. "It'll take too much time, and I am _not_ leaving you here alone."

Eren's liquid turquoise eyes lift again to Levi's hardened gray ones, darkened around the edges from lack of sleep. From seeing so much himself.

"You should get out of here," Eren retorts. "So at least one of us can survive."

"No," Levi states firmly. "On your feet. We need to get inside somewhere." His eyes are already scouring the area, scouting out a place to take refuge in for the time being, for some place to give them the last little speck of hope that maybe, maybe they'd see their comrades again...provided they aren't already dead.

Eren, as usual, is in no position to argue and reluctantly pulls himself to his feet. They start in the same direction the titans are headed in - north - to put themselves further from the hungry beasts. Levi bites his tongue as they start walking, trying his best to move quickly despite his injured ankle. When he's fallen several feet behind, Eren turns.

"Let me help you," he says, offering a bloodied hand.

The corporal's first reaction is to recoil from the messy limb and deny he needs any help, but with three approaching titans and his ankle flaring up more and more with each step, he has no choice but to accept the offer. Quickly, he hooks an arm around Eren's neck and allows the kid to support him around the waist. This is quicker, but not by much, and they only make it a few blocks before they're forced to stop around the corner of the building.

"Fuck it," Levi mutters. He leans against the wall where vines have started to make their home, retaking the structure bit by bit after having been abandoned for almost a decade. He begins to fumble with the straps of his gear to get it off.

"What are you doing?!" Eren asks fearfully.

"Giving you my gear," he explains. "Put your gas tanks in it and get the hell out of here."

Eren blinks down at him as if he's trying to determine whether or not his superior is serious. But of course he is. Levi isn't one to joke, has never been, and especially wouldn't at such a critical time.

"No!" he protests. "I won't leave you, either! Don't be stupid!"

"Stupid?" Levi spits. "You're one to talk, falling into that damn armored titan's trap back there! Besides, you're too important an asset to humanity. It's my duty to assure your survival, now take the damn gear and--"

"No."

"This is an _order_ , Jaeger!"

"And I can't obey, captain! Not this time! If you won't leave me, I can't leave you, either. We...we go together or we don't go down at all," he states firmly.

Levi can just see the stubborn set of Eren's jaw, the absolute resolve in those beautiful set of eyes, and he knows this will be a losing argument for him. Not that there's much time to continue arguing, anyway.

"Fine," he mutters. "Then we need to get inside."

"Yes, sir," Eren says, and they resume their position. They hobble a few more blocks before reaching a fairly tall building.

"This will have to do," Levi says. They stumble inside and immediately start up the stairs, Levi abandoning Eren's support while noting the extra paleness of his usually pretty flushed face.

"C-captain-!"

"I'm fine. Hurry."

Eren, of course, has no other option but to comply. He scrambles after his limping superior, hefting his tired, injured body up the stairs and leaving a trail of blood in his wake as the bite marks in his hands aren't healing.

 _There's something wrong_ , he thinks. The marks should be healing, whether he'd exhausted his titan abilities for the time being or not. Wounds always continued to heal with his regenerative abilities...but this time...

The two manage to make it to the very top floor. The entire place is dusty, worn, nearly in ruins of having been abandoned and unmaintained for so long. The windows are cracked and the ceiling is beginning to cave in, but it will have to do.

"We can stay here until sundown," Levi says. "Maybe a little after. Once those beasts have lost their energy from lack of solar power, we'll have to make a break for it." He sits heavily on a stool in the corner, grimacing minutely as the pressure comes off his injured ankle.

"Where will we go?" Eren asks in a small voice. He's got his hands cradled in front of him. The _plips_ of blood droplets hitting the wood floor is louder now, due to the surrounding silence. Levi stares at them, thinking his own pain must be nothing compared to those deep bite marks.

"Don't know. We'll figure something out...even if it means you take my gear and get yourself out of here." The raven pulls himself to his feet, though reluctantly, and shuffles toward the cabinets and things around the room. Clearly, this floor was something of a kitchen before its abandonment; surely there's something to bandage Eren's hands with...

"Captain, I already told you--"

"Shut the hell up, Jaeger." He shuffles around in the cabinets. "We'll figure something out, but if we can't find a way for both of us to escape, _you_ are going. That's an order, non negotiable."

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the kid flinch and tuck his hands closer to himself. He says nothing, but Levi knows he knows better than to argue as much as he may not agree with the orders he's given.

By the fourth cabinet, Levi finds a roll of gauze and some tape. No antiseptic, but were there any it would be long expired and would likely do more damage than good. He tries the faucet; it sputters a moment before spitting out quite a bit of rust. He waits a moment and eventually the water runs clear enough.

"Come here," he says.

Slowly, Eren crosses the room. Levi pulls the towel from hanging on a cabinet and soaks it, wrings it out, and holds a hand out. Tentatively, Eren offers one of his bloody ones and watches as Levi uses the towel to clean it of the blood. The bleeding has slowed, but Eren is shaking. Levi makes it a point to remain gentle, and when the hand is cleaned of blood, he rolls the gauze around it, rips it off, and seals it with the tape. "Feel okay?" he asks, keeping his eyes from Eren's.

The titan shifter offers nothing more than a shaky nod in response, and Levi gets to work on the opposite hand, repeating the actions and clarifying it feels okay. With a tired huff, he leans back against the counter, rubbing a hand across his forehead.

"Your ankle," Eren says quietly.

"It's fine."

Eren shakes his head, the stubborn brat, and kneels down. "Let me take a look."

Levi slides his boot back. "I said it's fine."

"Come on," Eren pleads, gazing up at his captain with those shiny, luminescent eyes. "You took care of me."

For a moment, Levi keeps his hardened mask in place, brows pulled together tightly as he waits for Eren to give in. But instead he is the one to give in. A sigh brushing past his chapped lips, he hops up onto the counter and lets Eren slide his boot off, undo the maneuver gear straps from around his leg, and roll his pant leg up enough to reveal his swelling ankle. Eren's fingers are warm and very gentle as he probes around the joint, noting where Levi stiffens a bit at the pressure.

"I think you refractured it..." he murmurs.

"Well," Levi mutters, "nothing we can do about it now."

"It needs support," Eren says as if Levi never spoke. He reaches up for the gauze; it's not ideal, but it will at least wrap it for the time being.

"Like that will do any good," Levi scoffs.

"Just let me do it," Eren says, already fumbling for the end of the gauze with his shaking fingers.

And let him Levi does, despite not understanding how something designed for open wounds can help a fractured ankle. It seems to put Eren at ease, though.

When he's finished, Levi hops of the counter (making sure to put his weight on the _opposite_ leg, of course) and slides his foot back into his boot, much to Eren's chagrin.

"I'm gonna go look around," he says before the brat can protest. "See if anyone else has taken refuge here. Or to see if I can find any food..."

And to Levi's surprise, Eren doesn't argue. Levi passes him without a glance and heads back toward the door leading to the stairwell. He's halfway through it and about to descend the first step when he hears a considerably loud _thunk...thunk_ from behind him. Frowning deeply, he turns back around wondering what in the hell could've produced that sound...

...to find Eren lying facedown on the floor.

"What the...?" As fast as his injured ankle allows, he moves back to Eren's side and kneels next to him. "Jaeger," he mutters, shaking one of the brat's shoulders. Shakes a bit harder when he gets no response. Though he'd never admit it or show it, panic begins to bubble up in his stomach. "Eren..." Slowly and as gentle as possible, he lifts one of the teen's shoulders and eases him onto his back, halfway into his own lap.

Eren is pale, almost deathly so. Levi forces a dry swallow, eyes roving over the length of his body to find any other injuries. Shakily, he moves Eren's already bloodstained scout's cloak away from the front of his torso to find the shirt he wears underneath to be absolutely _soaked_ in blood on his left side.

 _That's not from his hands_ , he thinks. The blood slowly continues to bloom across the fabric, staining it darker and darker, the moisture of it causing it to stick to the skin underneath.

Levi feels his throat close, his stomach clench. He pulls Eren closer. He has no choice but to dress the wound, which requires ridding Eren's torso of the 3DMG straps and his shirt. His shaky fingers fumble with them, slipping up on the buckles. He pulls the shirt from where it's tucked into Eren's belt and lifts it to reveal the boy's muscular torso and a deep cut curving around his left side, along his ribs and ending near his navel.

"Dammit brat, why didn't you tell me?" he hisses. He internally denies the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

_If I lose Eren, too...I'll have nothing left._

But he won't think about that. He refuses to lose Eren; refuses to let this boy die. Refuses to bear the burden of another death upon his shoulders. Out of all, he knows Eren's would be the heaviest.

Gently, he lies the teen on the floor before pushing himself to his feet to retrieve the bandages and wet cloth. As best he can, he cleans up Eren's skin, wishing again he had some sort of serum to help clean and heal the wound. Blood continues to seep from the cut. It's deep. Too deep.

Levi props Eren up the only way he really knows how - leaning the boy's back against his own chest - and goes around and around his torso with the bandages until the roll is empty. He makes sure it's secure and tapes it off.

Eren hasn't responded to his touch yet, but shallow breaths still pass through his nose. His body retains warmth, and he looks more like he's asleep than passed out were it not for the paleness. Thinking of nothing else to do, Levi moves the several feet it takes to make it to the wall just beneath a clouded window where vines and leaves have found their way in after having grown up the side of the building as nature has attempted to reclaim the structure. He drags Eren along by the shoulders; his blood smears across the floor. The corporal settles the boy's head in his lap, cradling it on his thighs in an attempt to make him comfortable as possible. Places one hand on Eren's head, his fingers gently tangled through his unruly yet incredibly soft hair. The other falls to rest against the boy's lightly rising and falling chest, just over where his heart beats steadily. It's a reassurance of sorts, Levi thinks, to feel his heartbeat. Make sure he stays with him.

Levi wishes he could sleep, but sleep and him have never really gotten along too well. As a result, he sports constant grayish circles around his eyes and a look portraying him to be more pissed off than he usually is. Most nights while the rest of the castle was off in dreamland between hard days of working and training, Levi would stay up catching up on paperwork or lying awake staring blankly at the ceiling, letting his mind wander places he'd never, ever admit to anyone.

And this moment is no different. Night is beginning to fall; the sun has already disappeared behind the once great Wall Maria and all that's left of daylight from what the corporal can see is a grayish sky, fading into the dark, velvety blue with thousands of miniscule pinpricks of light he's so familiar with. And he doesn't sleep, nor does his brain fly with different strategies of how to get their asses out of there, or how he might have to hook Eren up to his gear and shove him out the window himself once he wakes up. Doesn't think of how, if that's what it comes down to, he'll meet his end.

Instead, he thinks of Eren. Of this idiotic brat he's spent so much time with in the past several years. Of his stubbornness - that undying fire in his eyes devoted to destroying the titan population, free humanity, and avenge his comrades and mother. Of his clumsiness - trying to clean to the best of his ability but still managing to miss the dust in the corners and not quite organizing things up to par. Of the bright flush in his cheeks and stubborn set of his jaw, furrowing of his brow as he watches Levi inspect his work, be it cleaning or training or simply the way he makes tea. (He's gotten a lot better, but has a long way to go if he truly wants to impress Levi.)

Since the entrance of Eren Jaeger, Levi's life proved to get more...interesting (yes, that was a safe word to use). He won't go so far as to say there's never been a dull moment in Eren's presence, but such moments are fewer and further between. He'd never met someone so absolutely devoted that it could, to some, be considered scary at times. Never thought a simple teenager could care so much or be so fearless toward a force attempting to annihilate the remainder of the human population.

And that is precisely why Levi would do everything in his power to keep Eren alive and able. The kid wasn't expendable. From the beginning, Levi's duties were to keep Eren in check and kill him if he ever showed signs of losing control of his unique abilities, but the brat has proved himself in the past several years, and gradually Levi found himself more concerned with protecting Eren than keeping him in check, with making sure he stayed alive. This was never ordered of him. No one had ever told him to protect Eren. This decision is of his own accord, whether it comes from logic in knowing Eren truly is their last hope, or from personal feelings of never wanting to see Eren fall victim to a titan the way he's seen so many others go down, he doesn't know, nor does he particularly care. It is his decision, and he's never once brought himself to regret a choice he's made.

A gasp startles Levi out of his thoughts; his eyes snap open to find Eren sitting up swiftly and then groaning as the pain of his side has surely registered. His hand clutches at the bandages, and he reels for a moment in seeing them.

"What...?" he breathes, bewildered.

"You shouldn't move so quickly," Levi chides softly. "Or your wounds will never heal."

Slowly, Eren's head swivels around. His bright eyes are wide, shimmering, scared and confused. He blinks a few times before he nods slowly.

Those eyes, as they always have, pierces Levi deeply and beckons at something within him, something he has never been able to pinpoint.

"How long has it been?" Eren asks.

"Few hours," Levi responds, judging by how greatly the light flooding through the cracks in the ceiling has changed.

"Has anyone else...?"

The corporal shakes his head. Eren's Adam's apple bounces as he forces a swallow. Levi, too, is aware of his own cottonmouth and scratchy throat. Using the window sill for support, he hefts himself to his feet and tests his ankle as Eren watches. Pins of pain shoot through his leg at the pressure, eliciting an involuntary hiss. But he bears it, because at the very least they need hydration. The water can't be too bad to drink...

All under Eren's watch, Levi finds a couple of glasses that appear mostly clean and fills them before hobbling back in Eren's direction. The teen gratefully accepts but does not delve into the liquid right away as expected. Instead, he continues to watch his superior with those giant eyes filled with concern.

"What?" Levi all but snaps as he eases himself back onto the floor.

"You're in pain," Eren says, swiveling carefully to face him.

"So are you," Levi mutters. "Any other obvious things you'd like to point out?"

"No." Eren's eyes drop. "Sorry, sir."

Levi lets out a small sigh and takes a tentative sip of his water. It's not the best flavor, but it does well to chase away the dryness of his mouth. Eren, too, takes a small sip. His bandaged hands cause the glass to shake, and he carefully lowers it back into his lap, holding fast as if he's attempting to hide his shaking.

Part of Levi wants to say something. He knows anyone else would likely be trying to reassure Eren, tell him they'll be fine and find a way out, but the corporal has never been one to instill false hope into anyone, even himself. As hopeless and scared as Eren looks - an expression Levi has never truly witnessed him bear - he won't tell the brat they'll be fine. Maybe they will. Maybe they won't. Only time will tell.

Levi pretends not to notice the shaking in the boy and makes something of a show about carefully drinking his water. The room remains silent for a long, long while. The only sounds are small, brief breezes whistling through the cracks in the ceiling; the fabric of Levi's clothes brushing softly against itself as he continues to drink, and even the sound of his swallowing miniscule sips. Eren, on the other hand, had made no move to drink any more of the liquid and has since gone virtually still, his hair concealing his eyes.

Levi's lips pop open gently as he prepares to tell Eren to drink, but he's cut off.

"Captain?" Eren asks in a hushed voice. Really, it's little more than a whisper. In one word, fear has crept in and causes his articulation to shake. Levi feels a pang in his gut.

"Hm?" he asks, equally as soft.

The shaking picks back up; if possible, Eren's fingers tighten around the glass. The liquid inside ripples. "Have...I let everybody down?" The inquiry sounds choked. Strained. Like he forced himself to ask and is afraid to find out the answer. Almost like it physically pained him to form the sentence.

Levi looks steadily over the boy. He doesn't have a direct answer. Can't say 'yes' or 'no' without uncertainty. Won't anyway, because he doesn't want to lie to Eren.

"I don't know," he says after a few long breaths of silence. "I suppose it depends on whether or not they're still alive."

"A-and if they're not?"

Levi blinks slowly at him, watches as those magnificent eyes begin to gloss over with moisture. He wants so desperately to say something to alleviate Eren's fear and pain; he's always hated to see this kid anything short of... _mostly_ happy...

"If they're not, you should do everything in your power to make sure their deaths weren't in vain."

Eren nods. Tears are making pools of his lower lids. His entire frame seems to be shaking.

"Have...have I let _you_ down?" he whispers.

In that moment, Levi swears he feels his heart crack, if not break completely, straight down the middle in a jagged line. Eren's pain pierces him and becomes his own pain, and he hates it. He doesn't want to feel. At all. Yet he owes the answer to Eren.

He lowers his glass to the floor; it clicks as he gently sets it down. He meets the cadet's gaze steadily.

"As long as you're still alive and fighting, you will never let me down, Eren."

And just like that, Eren breaks down, utterly and completely. Tears cascade down his cheeks, wetting those long, feathery lashes. His fingers release the glass; it rolls from his lap and onto the floor, wetting the wood and part of his bloodied pant leg. That beautiful face twists up in pain, so much pain and hopelessness; his arm lifts in an attempt to hide his tears. He hiccups as if he's trying to hold in his hysterics, and Levi is at a complete loss as to how to react.

He's never seen Eren so broken. Has never seen his tears. He's not the type of person to know what to do when someone he cares about is in so much pain, with endless tears pouring from their ducts. He's never been good at comfort period, never mind someone crying the way the titan shifter is. With his bandaged hands and torso, he looks like a broken doll who's been through way too much rough play and ended up broken, taped up in an attempt to fix him.

"S-s-sorry," he manages through a thick throat. He gulps in a breath like he's trying to regain his composure, but it's fruitless. He resembles a small child with his arm covering his eyes like that. And Levi can do nothing but stare.

"Eren..."

The boy doesn't respond. Or perhaps he can't. Levi's unsure. But his own chest aches and he can't shake it.

Slowly, slowly, Levi reaches out and places his hand lightly on the quivering shoulder of his soldier. Eren gasps a bit. His arm lowers, revealing wide, bloodshot, watery eyes. Those eyes, those eyes that Levi adores...

"I-I'm..." the boy stammers.

Levi merely shakes his head. He doesn't want an apology. In fact, he doesn't really want Eren to say anything.

And suddenly Eren's diving right into Levi's chest, a broken sob ripping from his throat as he goes. His fingers wrap themselves around the edges of Levi's jacket and his body is wracked with sobs in just a few short seconds. Levi can't move. He doesn't know how to comfort this boy, as he can't even find comfort himself in this shitty situation. But for the strangest of reasons, he wants to try. One hand slides up to the back of Eren's head, the other remaining on his shoulder. Eyes squeezed shut, he lets the boy cry into his chest.

Eren just needs something, _someone_ to hold onto. Levi knows he isn't the best thing, nor the most ideal, but for now he's all Eren's got. And, admittedly, Eren is all he's got, too. But for him, that's enough. Eren is the single most important thing in his life; even if the boy is broken, he's alive. He can make it.

After several long minutes, Eren's weeping begins to subside (though his shaking does not). He sits back a bit, his eyes open but unfocused.

"Captain, I..." He stops. Swallows. Hesitates before saying a hushed, "I'm scared."

Levi's fingers curl on the back of Eren's head, threading through his soft, thick locks. For some reason, he can't take his eyes off this kid.

"Me, too," he whispers.

Eren's eyes gradually lift to Levi's. They shimmer in what little light streams through the clouded window above them by the silvery moon. "If they're gone...if this is our last night...please stay with me. I don't wanna be alone. Please...just stay..." he pleads brokenly. A few more tears escape.

The corporal pulls him in, snaking his arms around Eren's broad shoulders and pressing his face into one of them. A light gasp escapes Eren's lips, right in Levi's ear. They're still as statues for a moment, Levi too embarrassed to pull away and face what he's just done on top of the fact that he, admittedly, _really_ doesn't want to let go; Eren too confused to pull away, and yet completely drawn to his captain's warmth. Tentatively, he moves his arms around Levi's slender waist and presses his own face into the other's shoulder. He smells of sweat and dirt, yet strangely something sweeter. And he's so warm, Eren can't bear to let go...

"Yeah, Eren. I'll stay."


	2. His Idiot.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha you guys are probably going to hate me for this. But alas, 'tis all part of the story.

_**“Levi!!”** _

Eren watches in absolute and total _horror_ as the cords of Levi's gear are snatched out of thin air by a giant hand and yanked, _hard_. The captain has very, very little time to react and kicks his legs forward as if he's trying to backpedal, but it's a fatal mistake. As soon as he's close enough, the jaws of the titan open, at the ready to swallow Levi in however many pieces it takes.

Eren's fingers smash into the triggers on his own gear, sending the hooks into the tree nearest Levi. He flings himself from the branch he's been standing on, but it's too late, too late…

Levi's legs are trapped by giant titan teeth. It doesn't bite down right away; the cords of his gear are still tangled in its large fist. He kicks and thrashes, doing everything he possibly can to get the beast to release his legs, even if it means falling twenty meters to the ground. As a last resort, he lifts his left blade and buries it in the titan’s cheek, and this is the second fatal mistake. Proving its deviance, a loud howl releases from its throat at the same time its jaw snaps shut; half a second later, its head whips around and sends Levi's body flying through the air until he disappears in the dark green branches of a giant pine tree.

This all happens in a mere few seconds. In the next, Eren is launching himself at the titan with an _infuriated_ growl. He pirouettes in the air and digs his blades across the nape of its neck so deep its head rolls forward, held up by little more than skin and muscle. It topples to the ground with a loud thud and steam rising up around it, but Eren doesn't bear witness to this. He's already meters away, his back turned to the titan corpse as he's in search of Levi.

_“Captain!”_ he calls, his head frantically whipping back and forth for the man.

And then he sees the growing pool of blood soaking into the grass near the base of a tree. He propels himself toward it, hoping and praying and yet knowing all the while it's fruitless.

He finds Levi slumped against the base of the large pine. He’s coated in blood from thin lacerations all over from the pine needles. Some are still stuck in his clothes, caught in his hair that's feathered over his pale, pale face. His gear is mangled, the cords snapped and frayed while his blades are nowhere to be seen. As Eren draws closer, he can see the man's eyelashes fluttering, like he's holding onto consciousness by nothing more than a hangnail, if not life itself…

“Levi!” Eren cries again, landing hard on his feet and rushing over to the bleeding, legless man.

Levi responds to the sound of his voice; his eyes peel themselves open and he manages to find sight of the boy kneeling next to him. Though his features are fuzzy and out of focus, the sight of Eren gives him some sort of hope and comfort.

“O-oh god,” Eren chokes. His own vision is blurred by tears as he, as gently as he can, pulls Levi into his lap, securing an arm around his shoulders and cradling him as if he's a fragile thing. “C-come on, Levi,” he stammers. “You're gonna be okay...let's get you to safety…”

He begins to stand up, but the sound of Levi's strained voice knocks him right back down.

“Save it, idiot,” he mutters. “You know that's a load of shit…”

Eren's muscles tighten. “No...I-I just have to stop the bleeding…” He fumbles with his cloak to unbutton it one-handed; it's the only thing he can think of to use for a compress. Once the button slips through the hole, however, Levi's hand comes up to stop him.

“Shut up and listen,” he chokes. His hand, strangely warm, wraps weakly around Eren's fingers. “Live. I swear if you die too soon...I'll have to beat the shit out of you in the afterlife. Don't...don’t let that fight in your heart die out, Eren, especially not on account of my death…” He stops and winces; his grip tightens as his brows knit together tightly.

“Levi,” Eren breathes. His eyes are swimming with a constant flood of tears. He can't bear this, can't stand to watch Levi in so much pain and to witness the life beginning to fade from his eyes… “I-I...you...can't…”

Levi's eyes peel open again. They're softer than Eren's ever seen them. With his free hand, the corporal reaches up to gently cup Eren's wet cheek. “And thank you, Eren...for making all this shit worth it in the end…”

“S-stop,” Eren chokes, holding the man tighter to his chest. “Shut up...you're not gonna die…”

Levi forces a breathy half-laugh. He grows weaker and weaker with every agonizing breath he manages to suck in. “You'll always be an idiot,” he mutters. “My idiot…” His hand slips from Eren's cheek; it's a struggle to simply keep his eyes open anymore. He feels as Eren removes his fingers from Levi's own, as his arm wraps around the captain's waist. Little is comprehensible anymore, for he's lost far too much blood...but it isn't easy to mistake Eren's damp lips pressing softly against his own as they had a numbered amount of times in the past. The last thing he feels is Eren's body shaking with sobs, and the last thing he thinks is how much he resents himself for getting killed and hurting this precious, precious boy...

Time fades out for Eren once he feels Levi's body go still in his arms. All he can do is stare down at his corporal’s face, his lifeless, beautiful face…

The booming of distant titan feet drawing nearer snaps him out of it. As quickly as possible with shaking hands, he wraps Levi's body in his scout's cloak and discards the rest of his broken gear before standing up, hugging the man to his chest. He's vaguely aware of the liquid red under his feet as he walks away from the scene. He can hear the zipping of maneuver gear cords and shouting voices in the same direction as the sound of the large footsteps. Hanji. Erwin. Armin. He can't entirely make out what they say, and then the sound of an enormous body falling through the trees and thudding onto the ground drowns them out momentarily.

_“Where's Eren?!”_ Mikasa shouts.

Someone responds. He doesn't know who. He just keeps walking.

Eventually, they spot him. Armin is the first to see his figure moving through the thick cloud of titan steam between the trees. He seems to bear something huddled in his arms, but it's difficult to make out what. All he knows for sure is that it's his best friend.

_“Mikasa!”_ he calls. The girl’s head whips around from the tree several meters away from where Armin perches. The blond points down just as Eren comes close enough to make out his features, his colors, the... _body_ in his arms.

Armin’s eyes widen so profusely they practically bulge from his skull.

“No,” he whispers to himself.

“Oh, god,” he hears someone murmur. Turns to find Sasha on a branch adjacent to his own. Her eyes are just as wide, her hands covering her mouth in utter shock and disbelief.

Mikasa is the first one to act, of course, launching herself down to the ground and calling Eren's name. The sound of her voice seems to snap him out of his mild trancelike state; his eyes, reddened and wet, find her face as he comes to a stop. His brokenness, plain as day, tears at her heart.

“Mikasa,” he utters. His voice sounds like it's been put through a shredder.

“Eren—“

And then she catches sight of the thing in his arms. Or, rather, the _person_ in his arms. A damn near strangled gasp tears through her already parched throat.

Before she has time to say a word, two others drop to their sides. No one says a thing.

* * *

I sit in the wagon next to Levi's body all the way back to the safety of the walls. Since the moment I felt his life slip away, I haven't been able to shed a single tear; in fact, my entire being feels strangely numb. I can't cry. I can't feel the bruises I've surely formed or the wrist Commander Erwin claims I sprained, though he only looked at it for a minute before ordering a bandage on it for support, which Mikasa helpfully supplied. It should hurt. I know it should. My wrist and muscles, my head, my heart...but I feel nothing at all.

Around here, death is something you get used to. Such a fact is inevitable. Eventually you close yourself off to your emotions, at least in front of the rest of the regiment. Most of us have, anyway. Mikasa and Armin have. Jean and Connie. Even Sasha is on her way there. The entirety of the Special Operations Squad is on their way to being emotionless. Hollow.

And now we've lost our leader. I've lost the one thing that gave me just enough hope I needed to keep fighting over these last years. The one who promised to stay...all because I wasn't fast enough…

I have witnessed death on so many accounts. When my mother died, eaten alive right before my eyes when I was a weak 10-year-old kid who could do nothing to save her. I saw other people get eaten that night, too, when Bertolt broke through the wall to Shinganshina, and then Reiner did the same for Wall Maria. And then Trost, five years later. And though it's been almost ten years and I still don't remember it, I'm responsible for the death of my father, too. And now Levi is gone as well.

We were supposed to be a team today, leading the squad while everyone else had our backs behind us, Hanji using her special, complex machinery (that I don't really understand) to wipe out whatever titan scum came our way. Our mission now is to wipe out the remaining population, despite not even having a ballpark estimate of how many are left...

But then the deviant appeared, and it was more than just that. It practically _acted_ like a human, and a starving one at that. Reminded me of Sasha when she's hungry, or starving children in Trost when famine was threatening to take over after the fall of Wall Maria. Its eyes were _ravenous_ with hunger, and Levi went after it. I was supposed to protect him...I was supposed to have his back...until that damned _beast_ closed its fist around the cables of his gear, and I was too damn late like the idiot I am.

So many times Levi told me he couldn't afford to get attached to anyone because he'd lost too many people in the past. Isabel. Farlan. Petra. Erd. Gunther. Oluo. Kuchel. I'd asked about Hanji and Erwin, because I know he's always been protective of them whether he'd ever admit it or not. They were his closest friends, the ones he knew the longest. He merely shrugged, told me their relationship was all business and that he'd stopped himself from gaining any form of emotional attachment to them.

He was lying.

And no matter how many times he told me he couldn't get attached, he kept coming back. Kept letting me in. I don't know why for sure, and I won't ever pretend to. It's simply a question I never got to ask, and now never will…

* * *

“Eren.” It's Mikasa. I don't acknowledge her. I wrap Levi's cloak around my uninjured arm and hop off the wagon. “Hey, where are you going?” I start walking toward the castle, saying nothing. “Eren, come on. You need medical attention,” she calls. Her voice wavers, but I don't feel bad enough to turn around and heed her advice.

“Let him go,” a deep voice says. Erwin. “I'm sure he just wants to be alone for a while.”

I thank him internally; he's right. I head into headquarters and trudge up the stairs. It's the opposite way to my room in the basement, where I should go. Where everyone expects me to go. Instead I find my way to Levi's room. It's shut, but not locked. Slowly, I push the door open. Everything inside is unchanged, of course. The bed is still made up as if it's never been slept in. There isn't so much as a speck of dirt on any surface. Papers are stacked neatly on his desk. In each torch, the fuel compartment is full and ready to be used. It's as if the room is awaiting his return, not knowing that'll never happen.

I shuffle inside and close the door behind me. Lock it. His scent still lingers here. Clings to the sheets of his bed and hovers in the air.

Carefully, I lay his cloak at the foot of the bed and sit. I begin working on my maneuver gear straps. My hands shake, but I manage to get them off and coil them up neatly the way he taught me how. I slide my boots off and place them neatly near the door, being mindful to keep the room clean, as if he'll stride through the door at any second and scold me about tracking dirt in. I then move to the connecting bathroom—small, but cozy somehow. I light the lantern and face away from the mirror. Work on removing my clothes before running the tap into the wooden tub and stepping in.

I don't know how long I sit in the water, but it's long enough to have hummed several songs and for the liquid to cool off and leave me shivering. I have just enough sense to pull myself out, yank the chain on the plug, and wrap a towel around myself. I stand in the middle of the floor, still dripping. I watch the tiny droplets of water drip through my bangs, see as each one falls to the ground with a tiny _plip_.

I feel I could stand here forever, just staring. Watching the water drip to the ground until my hair is dry. It's strange how emotionless I feel...how inhuman I feel.

But eventually my survival instincts kick in and I realize the vigor of my shivering from not having properly dried off. It's enough for me to ruffle the towel through my hair and hang it carelessly. I step out of the bathroom and shuffle over to the dresser to pull nothing more than a pair of boxers out (after spending countless nights up here without anyone's knowledge, I'd accumulated several pairs among Levi's) and yank them on. With nothing but his cloak held tightly to my chest, I crawl into the bed and curl up around it.

I lie awake in silence long enough for the afternoon light to fade into evening, and then for that to fade into night. I can't see the stars from the view of Levi's window because they're obstructed by clouds.

And when the rain comes, so do the tears. They're slow at first, barely accumulating in the corners of my eyes, but when I blink they fall; for some reason the sensation of my own tears wetting my skin triggers the buildup of my hysterics and before long I'm wracked with sobs and ugly wailing with my face buried in the soft green cotton of Levi's cloak.

It smells like him. Still feels like him somehow. My fists hold so tightly to the fabric my sprained wrist feels like needles are shooting through my nerves, but the pain keeps me sane. I completely lose track of time; eventually my ugly sobs turn to ugly hiccups; tears (and likely snot and saliva) stain the covers and the cloak. My stomach aches...but in spite of myself, I manage to find sleep...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha whoops. I just can't seem to write anything without angst like I don't understand why I just can't. So, "oops".


	3. His Memory.

The mess hall is silent, save for the sounds of cutlery clicking against dishes, the occasional crunch, or soft clicks as glasses, cups, and salt and pepper containers are set on the wooden tables. Forks occasionally scrape across plates.

Nobody speaks. Nobody has anything to say, not even Commander Erwin. Not Hanji. Not even Sasha can be heard gushing over how delicious the food is and how starved she is after the expedition.

Things are usually much heavier than usual after returning from beyond the walls...what with dozens of casualties and the grief hanging heavy over everyone. Still, it's never this quiet, never this dismal and heavy. I feel like I'm choking on the grief, swallowing up depression instead of eggs and toast. (And I know I'm only eating because it would worry Mikasa and Armin if I don't.) They're tasteless. I won't be surprised if I see them again later…

* * *

Funerals aren't common in the Survey Corps. Too many casualties; no one feels it would mean much.

And that's why it feels strange to be standing in the fairly sized courtyard at the rear of headquarters, with everyone gathered around in uniform while Commander Erwin stands on a pedestal, Hanji at his right hand. If not for the heaviness hanging around, the grief, the shock, the situation would be awkward. No one knows what to do. How to act. And that includes myself.

The Special Operations Squad stands at the front of the crowd, me in the center. On my left is Mikasa, on the right is Jean. Armin, Sasha, and Connie make up the rest of the line, and I suddenly realize this is all that's left of us, the 104th; what with Marco's death, Reiner, Bertolt, and Ymir being traitors, Historia becoming queen, and the rest among the long (and growing) list of casualties. A list Levi is now on…

Behind us is everyone left in the Corps as of now, and so recently after an expedition, the group isn't great in number. We've lost so damn many, and even more before I joined. If I feel so burdened by all those deaths on my own shoulders from all the friends and comrades I wasn't able to save, I can't imagine how Erwin feels, or how Levi felt before…

“A great loss has fallen upon us,” Erwin begins. “One of the strongest. One of the bravest. The one with the most single-handed titan kills out of the entire regiment. An exceptional soldier, pulled from the confines of the Underground City. Humanity's Strongest, who took on the major responsibility of keeping our last hope in check.” Erwin's eyes fall directly on me; I feel myself tense involuntarily. “And through the years, they built up a strong relationship, a great partnership and friendship; an unfailing team…”

It's at this point in which I begin to block out Erwin's speech, casting my eyes to the ground where weeds are attempting to push themselves up through the loose dirt.

He's wrong. Our team was not unfailing; if it had been, I would not be standing here. Erwin would not be making this speech. Levi's heart...would still be beating…

But I couldn't protect him. Couldn't save him from falling victim to the jaws of that beast. In no way is his death not utterly and completely on my shoulders.

I manage to suffer through the entire speech, doing everything I can to block out his words, but every time he says Levi's name, every time he says the word ‘death’, my stomach churns more and more, my palms burn and I feel the urge to strike something—particularly myself. By the end, my fists are trembling and I don't realize Erwin's speech is over or what the little wet spots appearing on the dirt near my feet mean until someone holds a handkerchief in front of me in offering.

My head snaps up. Mikasa stands in front of me, her dark eyes swimming with nothing but concern. For me. Any grief she might bear isn't for Levi—it’s for me and the pain I'm in. And for some reason, it angers me.

I bat her hand out of the way and stride off as quickly as I can. Her gaze burns into my back until I disappear around the side of the castle and I hear her faintly call after me, but again I ignore her.

At first I think my intentions are to go back inside, curl up in my bed and wallow in my sorrows like a fucking baby like I have been for the past week. Instead I keep walking. I don't know where I'm going, or why, or if I'm looking for something in particular, but at the moment it doesn't matter. I just walk.

* * *

_Fingers ran gently through his hair. Warm. Soft. Comforting. He hummed in contentment, thinking about how much he'd like to stay there forever, snuggled under the covers, cuddled up with another body so close to his own. It was more comfortable than he ever remembered being before._

_“Are you awake?” the other whispered softly._

_“Hmm…” he murmured. A soft chuckle met his ears. A tingle ran down the length of his back, and he couldn't help but smile._

_“Such a brat.” The three simple words were coated thickly with affection; he felt lips accompany the fingers in his hair._

_“Hmph, you love me,” he muttered sleepily._

_“You're still a brat.”_

_The younger’s smile widened; he let his eyes flutter open. The basement was far too dark to see anything, even the vaguest outline of any of the walls, the bars to his cell, or even the man right in front of him. But it was okay; he reveled in the feeling of_ feeling, _rather than seeing. For some reason it made him feel more alive, more real._

_“You ready for tomorrow?” asked the deeper voice._

_Suddenly some of the bliss washed away. “I don't know,” he mumbled. “It's my first expedition without my titan abilities…”_

_“You'll be fine,” the other promised. “I won't let anything happen to you.”_

_“Mmm, I'm more worried about_ you,” _he insisted. “I'm supposed to protect you, but it'll be more difficult…without…”_

_“You're more of an idiot than I thought if you're worried about me.” The fingers ran gently through his hair once more before resting on the back of his neck. He tilted his head up a bit, to be more face to face._

_“Still,” he said. “You never know what could happen.”_

_“Please, Eren. I've survived this long...and we're so close. I won't let myself get killed, or even hurt.”_

_“Hm, but what about your ankle?”_

_“What about it?”_

_“What if it buckles again?”_

_“It won't. It's been fine for years.”_

_“Still…”_

_“Have you no faith in me?”_

_“I do, just—“_

_“Then don't question it. And even if I do die, it won't be in vain. I trust you to see to that.”_

_His words about trust were sincere, but Eren could tell he truly didn't believe he would die. It gave him comfort, so he cuddled closer to the other’s chest and let out a soft sigh, shutting his eyes once more. “Alright.”_

_“Get some sleep, kid. You're gonna need it.”_

_“Yeah. You, too.”_

_The other merely hummed, beginning to rub Eren's side in the way he knew made the boy sleepy. Eren found himself holding on tighter as if it would make Levi stay longer, even after he'd fallen asleep. When he did, it was to the warm sensation of strong hands and soft lips on his forehead. Sure enough when he awoke again, Levi had disappeared from his bed without a trace._

* * *

Levi was gone the next day. That was the last night I got to spend with him, and now he's gone forever. Never once was I able to tell him how I felt.

Part of me thinks he knew anyway, but I'll never be sure. Just like I'll never be sure if he felt the same.

We'd snuck around like that often. Never was it anything official or deliberate, but he snuck down to my room in the basement every few nights, and on others I'd sneak up to his. It was rare we spent a night alone.

And those nights in his arms ended up being part of what I lived for. Protecting him was my biggest motivating factor, even after losing my titan abilities. Perhaps even more so after that, because I was no longer as strong, no longer as special.

I find myself atop one of the walls not long after walking away from headquarters and the rest of the regiment. Wall Rose, of course, facing southeast. To my left I can see Trost, and beyond that what lays behind the ruins of Wall Maria, still being renovated for population since I sealed the hole made by Reiner. Shinganshina, however, is still lost to humanity, but after all the titans behind Wall Maria were slain, it was a giant step in the right direction for humanity.

And now I'm famous for it, despite everything. Levi is dead. Once more I am an ordinary human. And I'm _famous_ for it.

As if my legs can no longer hold me up, I sink into a sitting position near the outer edge of the wall, looking over everything as far as I can see—the town under construction, Wall Maria, and just barely beyond it, the green fields. Titan territory.

“I miss you,” I say aloud. As if he can hear me. “I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. But you probably don't wanna hear that bullshit, do you?” It's silly; with every word I feel more and more alone.

I move so my feet dangle over the edge of the wall and gaze down. It's a fifty meter drop, with nothing below but stone. The nearest roof is several meters away.

“Maybe I should jump,” I continue. “Join you, wherever you went.” I swallow hard.

I don't want to jump. But I don't want to be without Levi, either. If nothing else, he was part of my family. And maybe because he and I were...closer...is the reason this is so much harder than it's ever been before.

“But I remember what you said, with your dying breaths...that you'd kick my ass in the afterlife if I came too soon. But maybe it would be worth it, because I'd get to be with you again.”

Hastily, I drag the heel of my hand across my cheek to catch the tears.

“But I also remember what you said back in that building a couple years ago. That as long as I'm still alive and fighting, I'll never have let you down. Even though you're gone...I don't wanna do that. I...I want you to be proud of me.” I pull my legs up and hug them to my chest. “So...so I won't,” I mumble past a thick throat.

Truthfully, I don't know if Levi can hear me. I don't know what happens when we die...where we go or what we become. And I won't pretend to have felt him or falsely believe he heard. But I know in my soul he wouldn't want me making an idiotic decision like flinging myself off the top of the wall. Alive or dead, I never, ever want to let my captain down.


	4. Chained Freedom.

-Six Months Later-

“After all these years, all this suffering...I can't believe we're actually _free!”_ Sasha squeals. She's being lifted up in Connie's arms and spun in a circle, laughing and celebrating with the entire rest of the human population.

Many people don't even believe it, and I don't blame them. I can hardly believe it myself.

Radioactive bombs, Hanji called them, spread out by steam-driven engines throughout the entire globe. These were two of the most advanced and innovative inventions since 3-dimensional maneuver gear itself. It's not something I completely understand, but it doesn't much matter. The point is we're free, and are no longer forced to live like cattle.

And I can't bring myself to be happy as anyone who knows me would think I'd be. But because I don't want anyone to notice my lack of enthusiasm, I drink.

The mess hall is full, full, full of food (more than I'd ever seen) and alcohol. The entire regiment, no matter who or what they've been through, is crowded in the room and ready to celebrate.

The party begins soon after. The room is filled with the sounds of people eating, drinking, talking and celebrating. Feet dance around each other to the beat of live music. People laugh and cheer.

“Eren!” I hear my name being called, and none other than Armin emerges from the crowd with a smile bigger than I'd seen it since we were kids spread across his face.

Since then, or even since we joined the Scout Regiment, since retaking Wall Maria and Shinganshina, or even a year ago, he's filled out quite a bit, surpassing me in height if only by a little. Any traces of the babyish face I grew up with is mostly gone; even his eyes are more grown up and haunted by the past and everything he's seen. His hair grew out along with his legs, and he now wears it up on the crown of his head.

“Come dance,” he urges, taking hold of my sleeve the way he's always done.

I blink slowly at him; the effects of whatever's in the glass I hold has fogged my mind a bit, but I can't say I mind.

I down the last drops quickly and leave the empty cup on a nearby table before letting my friend lead me onto the dancefloor.

I've never been a good dancer, nor talented at keeping the beat, so I let Armin lead me through it. It feels weird. Different. And I don't like it.

So I drink more. This time it's something yellowish with a lemony scent. I take a small sip; it burns my throat, but I feel its impact almost immediately. I take more, and once I've emptied another glass, I move back to the dancefloor.

And that's how the night goes. Dancing. Drinking. Laughing like an idiot as I go back and forth, feeling the ache in my lungs and ribs from it, the stinging of my esophagus and the sloshing of everything I've downed in my stomach, unaccompanied by any sort of solid substance. But it doesn't matter. My emotions are numb. My mind is numb. It allows me to focus on nothing but my surroundings, any thoughts of the person I miss the most shoved to the back of my mind for the time being.

I’m at the edge of the dancefloor, my intoxicated eyes barely able to keep up with the people dancing, talking, eating, drinking. My head spins as Erwin takes his place standing on an empty table, his own glass of some potent substance resting in his fingers. He makes a speech I probably won't remember later, about how we've won, and even more so about how all the deaths and sacrifices of our comrades, in the end, were not in vain.

“From the soldiers who never made it into a regiment to the ones who were with us the longest, including he who was our strongest, sacrificed on the front lines in the line of duty, in the name of humanity!”

Cheers erupt through the room, and Erwin continues on about humanity and its strength, but I cease listening. I can't, not after his speech about Levi.

And suddenly the alcohol pumping through my system feels like poison. Acidic. My stomach churns, and as soon as the speech is over and everyone goes back to partying, the motion causes my head to spin.

“Eren?”

I look up to find Mikasa striding toward me. She looks...green? And strangely so much bigger than everyone else…

“Are you okay?”

Something warm meets my shoulder. My eyes are suddenly filled with moisture; everything swims.

“Have you eaten anything? You look so pale,” she says. But her voice sounds off.

I want to ask if _she's_ okay. She sounds so strange, looks so _awkward…_

“Here.” She holds something out in offering, and I'm about to take it until the smell hits me. I don't know what it is, but it upsets my stomach further.

* * *

Alcohol burns even more coming up than it does going down. Perhaps because of the mixture of stomach acid along with it, but either way it has my entire core feeling like it's being licked up and down by flames.

“He drank too much,” one voice says. It's muffled. Must be something wrong with my ears…

“Was no one watching him?” asks another.

“Guess not.”

“Let's get him to bed.”

I'm put in an extra room on the top floor of headquarters instead of my own down in the basement. Relief comes with being laid down. A cool cloth is laid over my forehead, and someone covers me with a sheet. I've been undressed, save for my boxers. The cool sensation of the sheet against my hot skin allows me to relax further and let out a breath of relief.

“Feeling better?”

Mikasa perches herself on the edge of the bed to my left, angled toward me like a mother would. I blink slowly, search for my voice.

“A little,” I manage. “Sorry.”

“Don't be.” Her soft fingers brush some hair away from my cheek. “But you should've eaten. Your stomach was filled with straight booze.”

I manage a tiny smile. “Oops.”

Her dark eyes are filled with concern. She, too, has changed in the years since our childhood. For most of the years of being on active military duty, her hair was never longer than shoulder length, but she's been letting it grow out and putting it up like Sasha or Hanji, instead. Now, it's down, and it falls in sleek locks over her shoulders. Her eyes are much the same as Armin's, forever haunted by everything they've bore witness to. The more she ages, the more woman-like she gets…the prettier she gets.

_Wow, I really must've had a lot to drink…_

“Just get some rest. I'll be in my room, so call if you need anything.”

I hum and watch her leave.

Once the door has clicked shut and her footsteps fade away, I'm left in a terrible silence. One that has my ears ringing. I can hear my own heartbeat and the surging of blood in my head. The soft brush of air entering and exiting my lungs through my nose. And nothing else.

Despite my still-spinning head, I push myself upright. Take a small sip of the water left by my bedside, and move to the window to shove it open. A gust of fresh, cool, night air greets me and I greedily suck it in, feeling a bit refreshed from my intoxication.

And it's stupid, but I lift myself into the window sill and crouch there for a moment before flinging my legs out to dangle them over the side and sit in the window. The tracks where the window is in place to slide open and closed hurts my ass, but I pay it no mind. Nor do I pay any mind to the fact that I'm still mostly naked. After feeling like I've been lit like a torch from the inside, this feels remarkable.

“So, we're free,” I say to no one. “But I don't feel so free.” I kick my legs back and forth, gazing down at the ground, three stories below my dangling toes. “Because Levi isn't here.”

It's the first time I've said his name since his heart stopped, and it catches on my throat, leaves the most bittersweet of flavors on my tongue—a contrast to the alcohol I'd been tasting earlier. Better, but worse.

“I am alone,” I whisper to the breeze. “And I’m sad,” I tell the tree a few meters from the building. “Because my life no longer has any purpose.”

I don't know why I speak. It seems stupid as hell. No one's listening, and it's not like spilling my problems to the empty air will solve a damn thing.

“You're so stupid for dying,” I mutter. “And you said _I'm_ the idiot. Hmph.”

I look back at the tree. “Do you wanna know a secret?” I whisper to it. The breeze blows through it the leaves clicking softly against each other. It's a good enough response for me. _“I still blame myself.”_

* * *

In the morning, I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror. My head is pounding and I threw up again. The sun has yet to come up and everyone's still asleep, exhausted from the party last night. It lasted until a good few hours after midnight; I could still feel the thumping of the live music as I laid in bed. My own eyes didn't find rest until after it stopped, either; even so, this incessant pounding behind them didn't allow for much sleep, so I now sport dark circles under my eyes and something resembling a bird's nest atop my head. Go figure.

I drag myself out of the bathroom after probably half an hour and shuffle down the stairs, using a shaky hand on the railing to guide myself to the basement. I stumble my way into my cell, feeling for my bed and the texture of his cloak before curling up around it.

I don't sleep. I remember.

_He knocked softly on the door, holding his breath. Shuffling sounded from the other side, and he had to stop himself from jumping back as it flew open to reveal a grumpy, sleep-deprived looking corporal._

_As soon as the short man saw who was there, however, his face softened a bit._

_“Hey,” Eren whispered, shifting his eyes to his feet._

_“What do you want?” Levi whispered back, though it wasn't in anger or annoyance._

_Eren had to fumble in his mind for a plausible answer that wouldn't make him look like a helpless wimp who was too restless to sleep alone. Standing there in front of his superior suddenly had him feeling like a child sneaking into his parent's bedroom to sleep because he was afraid of the monsters under his bed._

_“Um,” he mumbled. “I…”_

_Levi waited, a semi-incredulous brow cocked._

_“I got lonely,” Eren mumbled. He pressed his lips together, feeling like a complete idiot. When Levi said nothing, he muttered a ‘sorry’ and turned to walk away. He made it halfway back to the stairs before he heard the whisper of his name following behind and turned to find the corporal several steps away from his door._

_“Yeah?”_

_“Come on,” Levi murmured, nodding back toward his room._

_Eren's eyes widened fractionally. “R-really?”_

_“Before I change my mind,” warned the raven._

_It was more than enough for the brunette to retrace his steps and cross the threshold into Levi's room behind the man and shut the door behind him. The room, small but bigger than Eren's cell, was lit by a dying torch in the corner. The chair at the desk in the corner was a few feet away from it, indicating recent use, as well as a quill and a vial of ink adjacent to a stack of papers._

_“You were doing paperwork? At this time of night?” Eren asked in disbelief._

_“I'm clearly not the only one who wasn't asleep,” Levi retorted._

_“Touche...but…”_

_“Might as well do something productive with my time if I can't sleep,” Levi said, sinking back into the chair._

_Eren pressed his lips together. He remembered Levi once telling him he was never able to sleep much, at least not all at once. It was no wonder he looked so tired and grumpy all the time…_

_“Are you gonna stand in the doorway all night or what, kid?” Levi muttered, plucking the quill back up._

_“No,” Eren said quickly before padding silently over to the bed and plopping on the end of it. Levi scowled over his shoulder at his sloppiness but continued on with his work. Eren remained where he was, just watching Levi as his hand darted across the paper, occasionally dipping the end of the long feather into the ink. Eventually, Eren's eyelids grew heavy and he began nodding off where he sat._

_“Oi, Eren.”_

_He jolted upright with a gasp to find Levi standing in front of him._

_“Get some sleep,” he continued, turning toward the dresser on the wall opposite the bed. “You can stay, but you have to be out of here before sunrise. I'm not gonna have the entire rest of the castle see you leave my room and think we're up to something, and I sure as hell am not going to sneak your ass out of here.”_

_Eren was only half paying attention. From the moment the corporal said he could stay, he'd already started crawling toward the head of the bed and slipping himself into the sheets, softer than his own. Cleaner, smelling like the detergent Levi used to do his laundry with…_

_“Got it?” Levi asked in a hard tone._

_“Mm-hmm…” Eren mumbled, snuggling himself in with little more care in the world aside from sleep._

_The last thing he heard before conking out was a mildly irritated sigh._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i'm gonna post a little thing at the beginning of the entire fic...a disclaimer of sorts? idk. we'll see. thanks for reading, though ♥


	5. Waning Sun.

"Eren, I think you need to see a therapist," Mikasa says to me over breakfast a few weeks later.

"What?" I mutter, shoveling in another bite of eggs. "My body works fine."

She pushes her own eggs around her plate, the fork making an irritating squeak against the ceramic. "I don't mean a physical therapist, Eren. I mean..." I raise my brows in question. She sighs. "I care about you, is all. I want you to be healthy."

"Are you blind or something? I'm fine," I insist.

"Physically, sure you are. But not...mentally."

Just as she says this, my teeth come down on my tongue and I hiss in pain. Even after nearly a year without my regenerative abilities, I expect the throbbing to subside almost immediately, but it doesn't. I sigh through my nose.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say stubbornly. I refuse to meet her eyes, because I know the patronizing, all-too concerned look too well, and I don't want to see it.

"Eren..." she mumbles, almost condescendingly. My fist clenches around my fork. "I know you do. I know you've been feeling like hell recently, and the way you've been acting--"

" _What_ way I've been 'acting'?" I snap, finally looking up at her. She leans back a bit, frowning.

"Distant. Sad. And you blink out a lot, like your mind isn't even in the present. I'm scared one day you're going to fade out completely..."

I say nothing. Scrutinize her for a minute, fuming. What does she know? How could she possibly know what's happening in my head? No one knows but me, and I intend to keep it that way.

"Is it because the titans are gone?" she guesses. "You're not the only one of us who doesn't know what to do with himself, you know. We're all a little lost."

"That's not it," I grit through my teeth.

"What about nightmares? You have them. I know you do. Most of us do. PTSD, I heard Hanji call it. You...might be dealing with that."

"Yeah. That's probably it," I say before pushing myself back. The wooden legs of the chair drag noisily across the floor; I pick my tray up, and depart the mess hall as quick as I can. Again, Mikasa's eyes follow me all the way out.

_This is what she means about distant_ , something whispers to me. It's right, but I ignore it as I stride out of HQ.

She can't understand why I've been acting the way I have. Not a single air-breathing soul ever can. They didn't know Levi the way I did, didn't understand him. It isn't that they're over the fact that he's gone, just that they've been able to cope better with the loss of someone they weren't close to. And I haven't. Because he and I...were something different. Something unexplainable that no one could ever understand. He's been in my every waking thought for years...

•♦•

Armin finds me a while later in the training grounds. I've been pacing around it for who knows how long.

"Hey," he says upon approach, stopping me in my tracks.

"Did Mikasa send you to find me?" I ask.

"No, but she is pretty upset you stormed out on her like that."

"Hmph. Whatever. It's not like she's my mom."

"But she is your family, and she cares about you. We all do. And we're worried."

I cross my arms and start walking again; Armin falls into step beside me.

"There's no reason to be worried," I say, but even I'm not convinced.

"So...it's normal to go off and pace around the training grounds?" Armin asks. "Or to disappear and lock yourself in the bathroom for hours?"

My arms tense. How could he possibly know about that? "I don't know what you're talking about," I lie.

"Your ears are turning red. I think you do."

"It's normal for _me_ ," I counter.

"And that's worrisome."

I have nothing to say to that, because he's right - not that that's such a surprise to anyone. But so what if I'm not exactly 'normal'? After the things I've been through, they should be glad I'm not completely insane.

...But that's just a petty excuse, and I sound just like the bratty teenager Levi accused me of being so many times. And I know he'd tell me everyone's been through shit, that the way I'm acting isn't exactly 'normal', either...

"I agree with Mikasa," Armin goes on. "I think it would do you some good to talk to someone."

"Like who?" I snap.

"There are plenty of psychologists available, Eren."

With nothing to say, I can only scowl...

•♦•

In the end, Armin talked me into seeing a shrink. Or maybe it was that strange manifestation of my captain in my head calling me names and telling me to stop being a stubborn brat and take care of myself. Either way, I ended up in the tiny office of some man with a white beard and piercing blue eyes. (His name is Thomas, and that only reminds me of a friend I lost in my early days in the military...of course.)

'Post Traumatic Stress Disorder' is what he called it, but I couldn't repeat what exactly he said it is. I only really understood that my mind is supposedly in constant fear of my surroundings because of all the shit I've been through.

"It isn't uncommon," he explained in a voice that told me he smoked way too much in his time. "Many soldiers like you are dealing with it."

He said it like that was supposed to make me feel better before he gave me some special tea mixture I'm supposed to drink twice a day that should 'calm my mind'. Sure. Yeah. Okay.

Seeing the guy seemed to make Mikasa happy, though. I'm supposed to go back in a week. Ha, like that'll happen.

•♦•

Presently, I'm making my way to the top of Wall Maria. I managed to sneak out of Rose, all the way through the northern district, and to the wall via a carriage carrying construction materials unnoticed. Wearing Levi's scout's cloak inside out with the hood up and a pair of glasses, no one recognizes or suspects me, even taking the elevator to the top of the wall.

I hold the notebook Thomas have me to my chest.

"Go somewhere you feel safe. Somewhere you can just be alone for a little while. Somewhere you can make your happy place, and just write," he told me.

I can't tell you why I chose the top of one of the walls. It certainly isn't the safest place, but to me, it's peaceful. Atop Wall Maria, you can see for miles and miles into the outside world. It seems to go on forever, and although I've been out there several times, it inspires me.

I make it out of the elevator with no trouble, thankful to find the top of the wall vacant of any people. All that's here are the cannons and the tracks they maneuver around on. A slight breeze pushes through, lifting my hair and rippling the cloak a bit. Slowly, I pace along the outer edge of the wall, drinking in the scenery around me.

Everything beyond the walls is green and so alive, much unlike inside the cage humanity has known for the past century. I can see for miles and miles. Grass and trees and fields bigger than my mind could ever possibly hope to comprehend exist out there. Animals and large bodies of water I can't even see. The sky seems so much closer up here, yet so much bigger as clouds float lazily by and the sun makes its descent toward the edge. It's the first real sunset I've seen, I think, while I'm surrounded by peace. Watching the sun fall behind a giant wall is hardly a sunset, but as it goes past the very edges of the earth where it can see absolutely everything I've dreamt of my entire life is so much more humbling; it sheds the reminder of how small I really am.

The inner peace is short lived, though, because I immediately think of the person I wish to be standing next to me and watching it all, too. I grip the notebook a little tighter and select a spot on the edge to sit, crossing my legs and pulling a pencil from the spiral binding of the book.

"What the hell am I even supposed to write?" I scoff to myself.

_Write what you feel_ , Thomas's voice says in my head.

I roll my eyes and flip open the black cover to the first page. Blank and waiting. I stare at it for a while.

_So, am I supposed to write about how much I miss him?_ I start in a messy scrawl. _Or, like, the shitty thoughts running through my head every second? About my memories or whatever? Isn't that a little pointless?_

I stop.

Yeah, it's pointless alright. I don't get how this is supposed to make me feel better, or help me 'cope'. Writing, thinking, or talking about how much I want Levi back or how much I wish I'd never let him die in the first place isn't going to bring him back, or take me any closer to where he is.

For shits and giggles, I jot that down.

"Nope," I mutter. "Don't feel any better at all."

I stare and stare at my messy handwriting. The longer I look, the more it pisses me off. With a growl, I yank the paper from the notebook, crumpling it in the process, and hurl it off the edge of the wall.

"Pointless, pointless..." I shake my head so hard my hair disarrays more. "He's not coming back and I'm a mess and I'm only staying here because of a shitty promise I made but it's all so fucking pointless!" I spit, watch as the spray from my lips glint in the waning sunlight. "And it _hurts_!" I scream. "It fucking _**hurts!!**_ "

My hand seizes the notebook as I stand up. I hurl the entire thing off the wall and watch as the pages flap in the wind. It makes the long 50 meter descent to the ground. I can't hear it make contact with the ground, and tears blur everything anyway.

I don't know how long I stand there, heaving breaths in and out with clenched fists, one clamped around the pencil. I don't know if I'm angry or sad or what. I can't make sense of anything, really, and eventually I crumple to the ground with loud, horrible sobs jolting through my entire body.

"I miss you," I whimper into my knees. "You weren't supposed to leave, stupid. You promised me you'd stay...you promised I wouldn't have to be alone...but I am, Levi, I'm so alone...and I'm so fucking sad..."

Stupid, stupid, talking to air like it might respond, like Levi will walk up behind me at any second and flick me in the head for crying like such a baby.

I can never get away from thoughts like these, or this futile hope that he might do something like that, like my consciousness is trying to deny that I watched him die, that I felt the last breath leave his body and brush across my lips as I kissed him or felt his limbs fall limp or like I didn't shut his eyes with my very own fingers or like he didn't pass away right in my arms in a pool of his own blood...

This cloak, my memories, and my dreams are all I have left of him. And I'm convinced the remainder of my life will be like this. Bleak. Depressing. Lonely. Meaningless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The whole reason it took as long as it did for this chapter is because I'm terrible at coming up with titles, so coming up with each chapter title is a bit tedious, heh.
> 
> I do have a oneshot on the way, but it's delay is due to the same issue. /facepalm/ But hopefully I'll have it up within the next couple of days, if anyone's interested in that...


	6. Eyeless.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First drawing. First airplane. First kiss.

_Eren swam in the lining between sleep and wake, fighting to grasp full unconsciousness. His bed felt cold. Too big. Too empty. He'd given up trying to find a comfortable position long ago and had simply stuffed his head between two of his pillows, the rest of his body sprawled across the bed._

_Nights were always like this when they were spent alone in the basement of the castle, where it was colder. More isolated._

_'I can't rely on Levi every night,' Eren scolded himself every time he'd decided to stay in his own bed, as he always thought he should've in the first place during nights like those. Still, there was something about falling asleep next to another warm, living, breathing person whom you cared about, and Eren could never deny that._

_He'd just begun to fall asleep when a faint shuffling sound carried to his ears. Footsteps, he concluded, after pulling his head from between the pillows, and they were coming from the direction of the stairs. He sat up, hugging a pillow to his chest and squinting into the darkness as the soft steps gradually came closer and a figure appeared on the other side of the bars of the cell._

_"Hello?" he whispered into the darkness._

_"It's just me," said a low, unmistakable voice as the cell door was pushed open._

_"Who's 'me'?" Eren joked._

_"Tch," muttered Levi, stepping into the cell._

_"What are you doing down here?"_

_"The same thing you do when you sneak up to my room every other night." Levi felt his way toward the bed, his feet shuffling along the cold stone until his shins met the mattress. "Where the hell are your matches?" he grumbled, hands feeling over the bed. He'd just come into contact with something warm that he could only assume to be Eren's leg when a box was pressed into his hand. He fumbled for one of the wooden sticks and struck it against the box. It sparked to life, illuminating the soft face and green eyes just inches away._

_Eren squinted at the sudden light. Levi moved to light the torch in the corner, illuminating the little cell. He shook his hand, thus ending the life of the flame alight by the match. He tossed the charred stick in the waste bucket as his hand was taken and he was pulled onto the bed by the teen._

_"Couldn't sleep either?" Eren asked, not releasing his hand._

_Levi got comfortable, crossing his legs to face Eren. "I hardly ever sleep."_

_"Touché..."_

_"At least...when you're not around I don't."_

_Eren chuckled breathily. "I keep you warm or something?"_

_"Something like that."_

_Smirking, Eren laced his fingers through Levi's - surprisingly soft for all they'd been through. Lightly, Levi's thumb brushed over his own. It suddenly didn't matter that Eren hadn't slept well the past couple of nights, or that he should've been sleeping at that moment. The one he cared for most was there with him then, and he'd had constant thoughts of how the moments with him might be limited because of the cruel world they coexisted in, and he drank and reveled in every moment he could get with his captain, even if he lost precious sleep because of it._

_"Eren."_

_"Hmm?" he hummed with a frown. He knew every time Levi addressed him by his name rather than by 'brat' or 'kid' or simply 'hey', it was serious, and usually not in a good way._

_But almost as soon as Eren looked up from their hands, torn from his internal mind babble, he was granted no time to react before a soft palm pressed to the side of his face and a pair of warm lips smashed into his own. A surprise squeak sounded from his throat; he froze involuntarily for a moment. He was lost as to how to react, feeling Levi's nose tucked next to his, his hair tickling his forehead where his own bangs parted, and his superior's almost desperate attempt to get a response out of him. But he was frozen. Had no idea how to respond._

_Eventually, Levi had pulled back, but only enough for their mouths to cease contact. Eren could feel himself shaking, just slightly, fingers like vices around Levi's hand and his breath caught somewhere between his mouth and lungs._

_"You're such a dumbass," Levi had muttered, hand wrapping around the back of Eren's neck to hold him just a bit closer. "Don't make me regret that."_

_After a few forced swallows, Eren managed to find his voice, even if it was a mere breath in the silence of the dungeon._

_"Wha...what are you talking about? You're not one to regret anything."_

_"I suppose you're right about that..."_

_"C-can I ask you one thing?"_

_"Hm?"_

_"Did...did you do that because you wanted to...or because you thought you should?"_

_"Both."_

_"Huh?"_

_"I thought I should because I wanted to."_

_"Oh..."_

_Eren brought a hand up to gently wrap around the wrist Levi held behind his neck. Pulled it forward and brushed his lips lightly across Levi's knuckles. In truth, he hadn't much of an idea what he was doing, but Levi hadn't seemed to mind._

_That night, Eren fell asleep with his head cradled in Levi's lap, curled up with fingers pulling gently through his hair and a hand rubbing small circles into his side. It was the first in a long string of nights he slept without nightmares._

* * *

"You...threw your notebook...off the wall?" Thomas asks with surprised icy blue eyes.

"That's what I said," I mutter.

"Why?"

"Because I don't see how writing out the shit I feel is supposed to help the shitfest in my head," I explain rationally.

"Okay...but did you actually try to write out your thoughts?"

"Sort of..."

"What do you mean, sort of?"

"I mean just what I said."

Thomas shakes his head and sits back in his chair. I can tell I'm stressing him out; his forehead, already wrinkled enough, is a complete mess of wrinkles and it reminds me of the page I tore out of the notebook, crumpled up, and hurled off the wall.

Never mind the abandoned notebook, he should be glad I'm here. Mikasa all but dragged me by the ears to get me here. I already know my head's a mess, I don't need some old man who thinks he's qualified telling me over and over.

"Well, Eren, I'd be happy to provide you with another one, but I'm afraid you'll just end up doing the same thing."

"Probably would."

He sighs heavily, like a parent does when they don't know what to do with a misbehaving child.

In the end, he gives me another book, this one with a harder cover and void of lines on the pages.

"Try drawing," he says. "But please, Eren, if it doesn't work, don't throw the book off the wall. Bring it back. We'll try something new. Alright? And come back in two days. Show me what you've got, if anything, and we'll talk about it."

So I make my way back to the top of Wall Maria at the same spot I'd thrown the writing journal over the edge at the same time of day, where on one side the sun is finding a place to sleep and on the other, one by one, the stars are waking. I sit, dangle my legs over the edge of the wall, and shake the hood of the cloak off my head. Take a peek over down to the ground to see if I can spot the other notebook, but I can't.

I think about the paper I threw over the wall the other day, probably long gone having been blown away by the wind. I think about how Levi's death occurred outside the walls, and I briefly (and comically) wonder if his ghost has found it, read it, and laughed at it. He'd probably think it was ridiculous, pathetic, and pointless, too.

I try to imagine it and suddenly realize I'd never seen him laugh. Or smile, really. Maybe in his eyes a few times, he did, but the rest of his face never showed it. Not that I can blame him; this world is shit. There's not much to smile about. At least, not anymore. Not for me.

I picture my friends' smiles. Armin's. Jean's. Connie's. Sasha's. Mikasa's. Hers are rare, too, but they've happened. They've all found something to be happy about despite the pain lurking behind their eyes, so easy to see by someone who experiences the same thing. Minus the smiling.

I can't recall the last time I smiled. Genuinely, anyway. It couldn't have been too long ago, could it? Jean is always saying or doing something idiotic that would make me laugh at him, and Connie's brimming with jokes. Hell, watching Sasha ogle over food is comical. But I don't remember any of those things cracking even the slightest of grins on my face, at least not so recently. And even when they did, before he died, Levi never showed any amusement in those trivial, tiny little things.

Suddenly my biggest desire is to see such a thing grace the features of the man I love. And the only way to do that is to heed Thomas's new advice and draw.

I start with a pair of lips. Relatively thin, as I remembered them to be, and tilted up at the corners. Not too wide, but not subtle enough that it would go unnoticed. I move on from there, shaping the face, the nose, his thin eyebrows, that little crease between them, and the hair falling over his forehead in a perfect cut, halfway covering his ears.

I stop at the eyes. Where they should be, the paper is blank. The rest of the drawing, surprisingly, looks like an eyeless face and I'm surprised by my skill despite lack of experience in art. But I'm afraid to try the eyes, afraid I won't fully be able to capture the hard, steely, stormy gray they used to be. Afraid they won't fit the face with the smile.

Even without the eyes, this face tugs on something deep inside me, and it's bittersweet. It's completely drawn from memory, and I didn't realize I remembered his face so well. Seeing it as opposed to simply remembering it hurts, and soon enough, little dark circles begin appearing on the paper in front of me. A few smear the lines, and one drips down from the shades of his hair, creating something of a darkened tear streak down his cheek...

"S-sorry," I mumble stupidly. I hug the book to my chest, pulling my knees up along with it, and watch as the outside world swims in the fading light. But who the hell am I apologizing to? "I know...I'm a huge baby." What? "You'd think after everything, I'd be tougher than this, right?" This is senseless. No one is listening. "I'm sorry," I repeat. But why? "I-I'm starting to hate...what I'm turning into..."

Talking out loud to the air, like someone or something hears and will respond; put a hand on my shoulder and tell me I'm not alone, or that it understands. Or maybe shove me off the edge of the wall...

"Stop!" I blubber. This time to myself. I hate these thoughts.

* * *

I take the stupid notebook back to Thomas two days later, this time without Mikasa's prodding. I don't know why. Maybe to show him the drawing and what a mess I am, that it seems like what he's trying to do is making whatever this mess in my mind is worse. Because it is. Because I don't feel as if I really have control of my thoughts anymore, and that scares me.

Thomas peers at the drawing on his desk, his thin lips pressed together in a line. He rubs his chin thoughtfully. All I do is sit and stare him down.

"This is...good, Eren," he praises me. Whether he means the art or the representation of whatever it is he wants, I want to punch him. "This is Levi, correct?"

The name sends daggers to my throat and temporarily revokes my ability to speak, so I nod.

"Hmm," he hums, nodding. "You think of him often, don't you?" Another nod, though accurately it would be that he's in my every waking thought, but I'm not about to spill the beans on that one. "You looked up to him," Thomas goes on. "Not only as your superior but as someone strong, no?" Nods. "So you miss him." Obviously. "More than other comrades you've lost?"

"More than my mother."

His unkempt, stringy looking brows raise a bit and wrinkle his forehead. "I see. So, was he like a parental figure in your life?"

I almost laugh. Yes, Levi was older than me, but not old enough to be my dad. Only by 7 years. What a stupid assumption...

"No."

"Then, just as your superior, or a comrade."

No. "Yeah." Much, much more than that.

Almost every night we spent together, Levi would remind me what we were doing was wrong, even illegal, but I never gave a shit. I didn't care if he was older, or my superior, or the fact that when we first started sneaking around I was still technically a minor. In a world like this, or that, I guess, if you're going to grasp something, you have to grasp it tightly no matter what may be against you and savor your time with it because it could so easily slip through your fingers.

And that was what Levi did - slipped right out of my grip, slick like the gallons of blood gushing out of his body from the wounds of his missing legs, staining the grass and ending the life that was so precious to both of us.

"Eren, do you believe Levi is at peace?"

"What?"

"Do you believe after he passed, his soul found peace?"

I blink at him a few times, trying to comprehend the question. Is he crazy? Or is it just the crazy in my head telling me the question is ridiculous?

"I don't know," I answer honestly.

"Why not?"

"I don't get how someone could be at peace after dying...the way...he did." My throat grows thick and trying to swallow around it is fruitless.

"I see, I see," he murmurs, looking back at the drawing. "And...how did he pass away?"

Immediately my stomach clenches and my back tenses. Thomas's eyes flicker up to mine and soften a bit. "My apologies," he says quickly. "Talking about it, though, will help you. I want you to understand that. It'll help you to not be so afraid of your memories. I only asked because you didn't draw his eyes."

The thickness thickens. "I...don't remember them," I lie.

This surprises him. "Really? Usually the eyes make the deepest impression." He nods a bit before gently closing the book and sliding it back in my direction. "This was good, Eren, very good. Thank you. I want you to try and keep this up, alright? Draw whatever you like, but try and focus on the important things." With another nod, he dismisses me. I hightail it out of there and gulp in lungfuls of air once I'm outside.

* * *

I draw in Levi's room this time, flipped past his face and focusing on capturing everything around me instead of what's in my mind. If anything is important, it's where Levi and I spent the majority of our time together when it wasn't strictly military business.

I draw an aerial view of the room. The dresser, the bed, the desk, the lanterns, the doors, window. And then myself, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, drawing.

And then I move to the next page and try my hand at hydrangeas, one of the few things Levi liked. At least, one of the few things he ever told me he liked. I never asked why, and I constantly wish I had.

They suck and I know it, so I tear the paper from the book with the intention of crumpling it up and tossing it just as I had that other page from the writing journal, and thinking of that piece of paper and how I wondered if Levi's ghost had seen it and laughed, and a much better idea pops into my head.

* * *

Same wall. Same spot. Same disguise. This time with a paper pinched between my fingers, and I'm not sitting. The paper has been folded carefully. A paper airplane.

It's a miracle I remembered how to construct one, recalling from my days in school before Shinganshina was breached. I'd tried it out a few times before making my way all the way out here the evening after creating it. It's the hydrangeas.

"These are shitty, but maybe you'll enjoy them. But knowing you, you'll probably think they're worse than I do." I snort. Raise my hand and point the nose of the little plane toward the vast planes. The last golden rays gently kiss the land, the trees. A slight breeze pushes through, lifting the cloak and bringing with the scent of construction, yet something natural. Fresh. I let it fill my lungs. I pull my arm back and, with one last breath, snap it forward and release the airplane. With longing eyes, I watch the wind carry it away until I no longer bear sight of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I need some ideas on things Eren draws and tosses off the wall based on what you've learned of his and Levi's relationship so far and even things in the canon plot. Really, any suggestion is good :)
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading, & lemme know what you think <3


	7. Future?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikasa gives Eren some news that gets him thinking about the future (or lack thereof).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some people might hate me for this chapter? But eh idc it's my fic Imma write it how I want xD

It's been almost two months since then. The longer time goes on, the harder it seems to drag myself out of bed, the harder it is to go to therapy appointments...the harder it is to do anything, really. Almost every time I sat in Thomas’s office since showing him that drawing, it was due to someone's prodding and coaxing, particularly Mikasa.

Thomas does his best to try and get me to speak, too. To talk about my memories and shovel out the things stuck in my head like leeches, continuously haunting and hurting me. But it's harder to talk about it than it seems, or at least than it should be. There are times when I'll sit there in the chair and stare at the scars on my hands, made by my own teeth, and he'll ask me questions. Sometimes the same questions, about the people around me or the things that happened on expeditions, how my mother died. Sometimes about simply what I had for breakfast. And I won't say a word until he gets tired of my wasting his time and he'll dismiss me.

Other times I speak. Sometimes the answers spill from my tongue without my conscious permission, and sometimes a little voice in my head pushes me to tell him and convinces me letting it out will make me feel better. It never does.

I've thrown several more planes off the top of the wall since the first, too. Random drawings of things Levi told me he was fond of, like tea leaves (he collected them, though I'd never seen said collection) and rain, among other things...things he never told me that I’d just picked up on over the years.

Part of me feels the airplanes reach him, wherever he's gone, and I suppose it gives me some sort of peace. I've spent hours drawing things for him, about him, about us. Through my drawings, I'll convey messages, simply telling him about my day or new things that might pop up. Sometimes I'll draw hours into the night, and occasionally I'll wake up when the moon is watching over to scribble something onto a page in a sudden burst of inspiration. Not everything gets thrown from the wall, but they all pertain to my grief from the death I've breathed in, and not just Levi's. Everyone's.

There have been nights where I'd have fallen asleep in my own bed in the chilly air of the dungeon only to wake up and find myself in his room, in his bed, snuggled between the sheets as if I'd been there the entire night. I can't figure out why, and it's something I've told no one, not even Thomas.

* * *

“Can I ask you something?”

Mikasa and I walk on a stone path through town. She holds her arms behind her back as she gazes upward while I keep my eyes on the ground in front of me, habitually running my thumbs over each other. It's a clear morning, and she's pulled me away from HQ for a walk, though even after half an hour I haven't figured out what the purpose is.

“Hm?”

“Since the titans were exterminated, have you...thought about settling down?”

“Huh?”

“You know...moving out of HQ, finding a house, maybe falling in love? Even, I don't know, starting a family?”

I slow a bit. Sniff. “No, I haven't.”

She nods a bit. I glance up, cut my eyes in her direction. She's hooked a finger beneath the scarf around her neck - the one I, or anyone else, have not seen her without since the day I gave it to her. Like all of us, it's witnessed and been through a lot. It's frayed at the ends, but otherwise in fair condition.

“I have,” she goes on.

“And?”

She alters our path off the stones and through some buildings until we reach a field, just inside the wall. A few trees sprout out of the ground. Flowers sway in the light breeze that's no more than a breath. Spring is worming its way in.

“And I'm gonna do it,” she says, wandering over to the nearest tree with a bench beneath it. She sits; I hang back until she pats the spot next to her.

“You're gonna move out?” I ask, trying to hide the shaking in my voice.

“Hopefully.”

“Do you think the commander will allow that?” It's not like we'd really have to ask to move out, but everyone's just stuck around since the titans were wiped out. On stand by, because they're so used to being there, or volunteering their time to help wrap things up, or to help Hanji with research. (Well, the last one is pretty much just Armin, but still.)

“I don't see why he wouldn't, especially once he hears the news.”

“What news?”

She doesn't answer right away. Folds her hands in her lap and stares at them. A long minute of silence passes between us.Just as I'm about to shake her shoulder and force the answer out of her, she speaks.

“Eren, you've always been so important to me.” Oh no. “You're like my family.” Stop. “No, you are my family. You and Armin and even the rest of the regiment.” My whole body is tense. Is she dying? It sounds like she's starting to say g-- “Which is why I hope you'll support me on this.”

“On what?” I press.

Another dramatic pause, and she doesn't look at me when she finally spills it.

“I’m...gonna be a mom.”

A pause.

“Wait...what?” I frown.

Her pink lips quirk up a bit. She does nothing more than nod, but there's a kind of happiness hinted in her dark eyes that I've never seen before.

“Are you serious?” I manage to choke out. My voice sounds strange, like something has hold of my throat but just loose enough to let strangled air pass through. Confusion swarms like bees.

“Of course I am.”

I can't help but glance down at her abdomen, sheathed in a white blouse not unlike what she generally wore with her uniform. It looks flat as ever, but I can't imagine it sticking out in front of her with a...a baby inside, just as I can't imagine her cradling one of those things in her arms, or nursing it, or raising it. Every time I try, something blurs the image.

And the questions start spilling out. “But when? Did you plan this? A-and why? With _who_?!”

Her eyes are averted again, and I know it's because she's nervous. She tucks her chin, watches the grass sway. “No, I didn't plan it. It was the night of the party…so it just sort of... _happened_. I don't have any excuses for it.”

I can't stop staring at her. I can't even blink. I'm shocked, and she hasn't even answered the most important question of all - who the _hell_ she got into bed with that night, and I don't even want to begin to imagine the possibilities…

“Who, Mikasa?” My hands are in loose fists now. I can't help it, I'm nervous for the answer.

A breeze picks up, lifting our hair, ruffling her scarf and sending her soft, feminine scent in my direction. The leaves above us rustle, a few spiral down in our direction. My legs are tense, like once she reveals the information I'm waiting for, I’ll jump up and sprint in the opposite direction.

“ _Mikasa_ ,” I press.

When she looks back up, the happiness from earlier has vanished and been replaced by...guilt? My frown deepens, fists tighten a bit. She takes a deep breath.

* * *

The way the graphite of my pencil clings to the surface of the page I drag it across never fails to fascinate me. As I create the curves and shadows, the scratchy metallic sound finds my eardrums. Just barely my nose detects the scent of the graphite. I blow gently to rid the page of excess particles and continue, focusing on detail.

It's a simple image, yet something that helped define our strongest soldier. Although small in real life - no bigger than the palm of my hand, really - the teacup takes up most of the page. The surface is plain, white, and smooth. It holds the liquid it's meant for, and I've drawn ripples through it. By the time I'm finished with the shading and erasing of stray marks, my skin has been grayed and my nails blackened. I'm used to it, though.

The trip to the top of Wall Maria seems shorter today somehow, and I'm looking out at the scene I've been memorizing for quite some time before I know it.

“Mikasa...told me some news today,” I start. This has become routine. My sick mind tells me to speak to Levi like he's sitting next to me. Another thing I've gotten used to. “She's gonna have Jean's baby, I guess.” I snort. The whole thing still sounds crazy to me, like I’d dreamt it all up. “Weird, right? _Jean_ of all people.” I roll my eyes. “Gross. Know I definitely wouldn't wanna get into bed with him, and especially not raise a kid and move in with him or whatever.” I look down. Run my thumb over one of my bite scars. They remind me of him, because he tended to them when they were fresh. “But I guess she's happy. That was the ultimate goal, I think.” I begin gently tearing the teacup drawing from the binding. Stare at it for a moment. “I just wish I could experience that, too. Do I not deserve it or something?” I begin to fold it. “But when the only person who can make you feel like that is gone…” I shake my head and finish folding the airplane, stand up and point it forward. “Here's some tea, in case you've been going through withdrawals.” I can't help but laugh at myself a bit as I release the plane and watch it float away, out of my sight forever.

* * *

That night I lie curled up in Levi's bed. Why, I don't know. I have a perfectly good bed of my own downstairs, and to some it probably seems disrespectful and even morbid to be lying in the bed of a deceased man. But I don't care.

I try to stretch my mind into the future and find some sort of salvation of what might be to come. Moving out of this castle, into a home of my own...alone or with Armin, maybe. Visiting my fellow ex-soldiers, making memories with them…

These ideas are so far-fetched and unrealistic to me that I snort a laugh. Mikasa I can see moving out, in with Jean, raising a kid, being happy. Armin would go on to research more with Hanji and others with the same mind-boggling brain capacity as them. Sasha might open a bakery and employ Connie. That is, if they never admit they're in love. If they do, they'd open the bakery together. Erwin’s a difficult one to picture a future for, but he's got more going for him than I do.

I've got myself, my sketchbook, and my thoughts. I've got my looming loneliness and my crippling fear of my memories. And I've got a hole in my chest where my heart used to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely not the best chapter I've ever written. Sorry. I also didn't thoroughly edit this...
> 
> Regardless, thanks for reading & let me know what you think ♥


	8. Changes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life starts to move on around Eren, but he's not following suit.

Over the next year, Mikasa grew. And grew. And grew. I was told it was only about nine months or so, but to me it’s felt like a year, and the longest, bleakest year of my life at that. I didn’t think a woman would grow so much in having a child, but she did.

When she was somewhere between looking like she held a cantaloupe and a watermelon under her shirt, there was an afternoon when everyone gathered in the mess hall - her in a chair, Jean kneeling oh-so _faithfully_ by her side, and the rest remaining in the castle surrounding her. I’d been ‘woken’ from the nap I was pretending to take and dragged up the stairs by an ever-enthusiastic Sasha, gushing, “The baby’s kicking!” The only thing I can remember thinking is, “Babies know how to kick?”

Mikasa’s eyes were the size of the moon as she sat in that chair, staring down at her protruding belly and cradling it between her hands. Her dark eyes reflected something between confusion, fear, and awe. Every once in awhile she’d gasp and her hand would fly to a different area of the lump and her eyes would get even bigger; there was a point where I thought they’d get so wide her eyeballs would pop out of her head and land right in her lap.

Everyone got a turn placing their hands on her stomach and waiting, waiting until they felt what I could only assume to be a little nudge coming from the inside. After Sasha had stood up from her third turn, Mikasa finally looked up, her eyes immediately landing on me. I stiffened just before she beckoned me forward with a wave of her hand. I had only a second to consider turning and running before all eyes found me and I was more than obligated to take a tentative step forward.

Without a word, Mikasa took one of my hands and placed it right to the center of her stomach. While the rest of my body was frozen, I could feel my heart hammering in my ribs and heat creeping up my neck to my ears. The world seemed to stand still for a moment before I felt that tiny stirring beneath my palm. _Life_.

My face must’ve given me away, because she smiled up at me a little, and in that smile was more happiness than I’d seen in years. Jean, too, had a dopey grin on that horse face of his and lightly smacked my shoulder. “Amazing, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Humanity’s tiniest soldier,” Hanji joked from directly behind me.

“Mm, nah, no matter how small that thing is, I think Levi was still smaller,” Connie added.

Light chuckles erupted around the group, but the only thing I wanted to do was puke and I high-tailed it out of there as fast as I could. That was the day I realized I’m the only one who isn’t at peace with his death.

* * *

And one freezing winter’s night several months later, Rory was born. I’d been wrapped in a blanket, sitting on the floor of the dining hall near one of the large windows watching snow fall in soft, delicate flakes with a cup of steaming tea held between my palms just before sunset when Armin gave me the news.

“Mikasa's in labor,” he called softly from the doorway.

“What?” I mumbled.

“She's having the baby,” he clarified, shuffling in my direction.

“Oh,” I mumbled, turning back to my window, where the moisture of a small cloud of fog from my breath clung to the glass.

“What's the matter?” Armin asked, sinking to the floor at the other end of the window.

“Nothing.”

“You can talk to me about it, you know.”

“It's Levi's birthday.” I took a quick sip of my tea - bland, almost tasteless, never the way he used to make it - to try and hide the pain just saying his name caused me.

“It is, isn't it?” he sighed. When I said nothing, he continued, “It's been almost two years and you're still mourning.”

I remained silent. What was I supposed to say? _‘Yeah, Armin, because I was in love with him and he promised never to leave me and then he did and now I'm empty’_? Ha, good one.

“We all miss him, Eren. You know that. But we've all learned to make our peace with it. I know you were closer to him, but it's still not good for you to hold onto all of that grief.”

Still quiet, I stared blankly out my window, trying to count the snowflakes and working as best I could to keep my face emotionless. Eventually, he stood back up. “You should come meet the baby,” were his parting words.

I did go meet the baby, and it was just as Hanji was carrying a heap of bloodied sheets from the infirmary. There was so much blood on them, fear shot through me, but they gave me a reassuring smile and told me everyone was fine.

The baby was...creepy-looking, with a squished up, chubby face. He was the tiniest human I’d ever seen, with a swirl of dark hair and pink, pink lips.

Mikasa's tired face lit up a bit when she saw me shuffle into the room, still wrapped in my blanket. The only other people in the room were a medic I didn't recognize across the room cleaning up and Jean, asleep and snoring annoyingly on the bed next to her.

“Hey,” she said sleepily; I shuffled toward her and took a seat at the edge of the chair next to her bed.

“Hey,” I responded quietly. “H-how’re you doing?”

“Okay. Tired.” She gazed lovingly down at the infant. “But happy.” She yawned. “What about you?”

“I'm fine.” But that was, and has pretty much always been, my answer to that question. I expected her to pry to make sure I was telling the truth like she usually does, but she merely hummed and looked back down at her baby, eyelids drooping. “Does it have a name?”

“ _His_ name is Rory,” she said.

“Hm...where’d you come up with that?”

“Jean thought of it.”

My eyes flickered over to said person. “So...you just had a kid, but _he’s_ sleeping?” I muttered, jerking my chin in Jean’s direction.

She glanced over at the snoring oaf, with his cheek smushed into the pillow and his hair a mess, like he’d simply plopped on the bed and fell asleep instantly. Probably had.

“He’s been up for almost an entire day,” she said. “I don’t really mind.”

I hummed, pulling my blanket tighter around me. My gaze fell back on the infant, sleeping just like his horse-faced father. “So I guess Connie can stop with the pony jokes now,” I said, forcing a bit of amusement into my tone. Mikasa only rolled her eyes.

He could stop with the pony jokes, and Jean could stop grinding his knuckles into the top of his shaved head and giving him bruises whenever thought one up. For ex-soldiers of the Survey Corps and young adults, they sure acted like children. Though, I always figured it was simply the bliss of freedom everyone seemed to have, something that I of all people lack.

“So...what happens now?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“Sleep,” Mikasa mumbled as the medic from across the room strolled over and took the baby from her arms, placing him in a small basket-like thing between the beds. The medic said her farewells before exiting the infirmary.

“Yeah...but I mean…” My voice was suddenly thick; I attempted to swallow past it with no avail. “Are you gonna move out?”

She shifted onto her side, gazing sleepily at me. “Mhm. Once we find the right house we are. It’s something you should think about doing, too.”

I could only nod. Move where? Do what? I didn’t know. Still don’t. That day a loneliness greater than the one I’d already been feeling had settled over and hadn’t lifted since. And it’s been two years...

Two months after Rory was born, they moved from the castle and found a fairly large house in Trost. I remember Jean saying over and over how he wanted to move outside the walls but they were unable to because we hadn’t expanded that far yet.

Sasha and Connie followed soon after, finding a similar house in the same area together. They were ‘just friends’ as they continued to say over and over to a castle full of people who weren’t buying it.

Several others followed in their tracks, as if Jean and Mikasa were the ones to break the ice and the uneasiness of leaving, like they expected to hear news of more titans trampling our way any day. The last titan sighting, though, was nearly four years ago. We’re safe. And they decided to make lives for themselves.

That left four. Erwin, who’s still on military business with the Garrison regiment in maintaining the walls and working on rebuilding humanity. Hanji, who’s doing their absolute best to research the origin of titans and study them as best they can with what little scientific evidence they had left. Armin, who’s helping both Hanji and Erwin, using his brilliant brain for things I regret to say I haven’t paid much attention to.

And myself, who does little more than sleep, draw, and avoid therapy appointments. I’ll visit Mikasa on occasion, but it’s usually with Armin who generally has to talk me into it. Rory’s bigger every time we make an appearance, learning to hold his own bottle and then graduating to eating mushy foods, sitting up without support and then crawling, holding himself up on his feet using furniture or the nearest leg, and then beginning to walk. His hair grew out, thick and black just like Mikasa’s, until it was a fluff over his head that was forced to get trimmed. He’s the most innocent thing I’ve ever seen, and I’d be lying if I said I don’t fall for the little pumpkin a little more every time I see him.

* * *

In two years, I’ve been through three sketchbooks, most of which suffer the fate of having most of its pages torn out, folded into airplanes, and sent soaring over the wall and to the outside world with a different drawing. Some pages remained; I have to have some things to show Thomas. Why I continue to sneak up to the top of Wall Maria several times a week like those stupid pieces of paper reach him, I don’t know. All I can say is it’s become routine, that it’s the only purpose my life really has anymore…

* * *

Presently, I’m sitting down to breakfast with Armin--well, breakfast for him; all I have is tea; I eat very little anymore--in the mess hall. His hair hangs around his shoulders, a bit of stubble peppering his chin. I often find myself looking at him in disbelief at how much he’s grown up since the days Mikasa and I had to rescue him from bullies, or when his wit saved me several times in the past.

“We’re planning a trip,” he announces before digging into his first bite.

“What kind of trip?”

“A trip beyond the walls for the first time since the titans went extinct.” I flinch - the word _titan_ still strikes anger and fear inside my PTSD-ridden brain. Armin’s eyes sparkle as he continues. “It’s an expedition of sorts, but this time it’ll be to discover things we’ve never seen.”

“Like what?” Surprisingly, I have a considerable amount of interest in this.

“Like seeing what civilization was like before they appeared. Or, at least, what’s left of what we think is there. And to find out how big the world really is, if our small minds are even capable of comprehending such enormity.” He pauses to take another bite, takes a swig of milk, and trains those excited sky blue eyes right on me. “But our ultimate goal is to find the ocean.”

 _Ocean_. A foggy memory rushes forward, back from the days when we were fuller of life and hope despite the situation we lived in. Mikasa, Armin, and myself crowded around that book about the outside world, knowing it was illegal but sneaking around with it anyway, our youthful eyes fascinated by the fantasies held within the pages.

“Eren?” Armin’s asking, waving his hand a few inches in front of my face. I blink a few times, focusing back in. “Are you up for it?”

Am I? I don’t know. The only time I ever really leave HQ anymore is to venture to my spot on the wall, draw, throw a plane, and talk out loud like a fucking lunatic. Every time I do, though, I gaze out across the fields to where the sky blends into the earth, the golden rays of the sun kissing the land goodnight before the stars dot in one by one, and I think about what could possibly be there, where the sun finds its resting spot until the next morning. The ocean? Perhaps.

“Yeah,” I find myself saying, even smiling a little. “Sure.”

Armin beams. “Great!” Shovels another bite in, like he’s in a hurry to get back to his research and whatnot.

“When?”

“We still have things to prepare, but within the next month.”

I nod thoughtfully. This should be good...I hope.

* * *

_Eren awoke to quaking and something warm against his back. He peeled his eyes open to the darkness of Levi’s room with nothing but the wall in front of him as he was curled up on his right side._

_Mumbling sleepily a bit, he stretched out his legs and craned his neck around to see what seemed to be clinging to his back only to find Levi in a cold sweat, one hand curled around Eren’s shirt in a vice-like fist and his face contorted into a mask of pain and fear - trapped in a nightmare._

_Hastily, Eren rolled over, causing the fist to release. He immediately took Levi’s face between his palms, massaging little circles into his cheekbones with his thumbs in an attempt to free him from the terror. After a long moment of this, gray eyes snapped open and in seeing a face so close to his own, jerked back instinctively with a strangled gasp. Eren quickly recoiled._

_Heart hammering and hands shaking, Levi pushed himself to sit up. Eren only watched, a lump forming in his throat, waiting as Levi sent a hand across his face and ran it through his hair._

_“You had a nightmare,” Eren finally spoke up in a soft voice._

_“Yeah,” breathed the older. No sarcastic comment. No scowl. Just a “yeah”. The brunette reached out and took gentle hold of Levi’s hand._

_“Wanna talk about it?” he offered, brow furrowed in concern. He could just barely make out Levi’s features in the dim light leaking through the thin curtains covering the window._

_“No.”_

_“Come here,” Eren coaxed, tugging on the hand a bit._

_“I...shouldn't, Eren.”_

_He tugged again, persistent. “Maybe it’ll help.”_

_Levi’s head swiveled in his direction. “I don’t remember much of it,” he mumbled in a rough voice. “Just...fear. And pain.” His voice dropped._

_Another tug and he finally moved toward the younger, leaning forward to press his forehead against the strong chest in front of him, resting his hands at Eren’s thighs while hands began to rub his shoulders._

_“I hate this life,” Levi whispered after a while. Eren slid his arms around the man’s shoulders, saying nothing. ‘Me too,’ he could’ve said, but Levi already knew that._

_He leaned back against the headboard, pulling the other along with him and letting his tired eyes fall closed. He did not sleep, but listened to his superior’s soft breaths, counting them, feeling them brush softly across his collarbone. The brush of air made his skin tingle; Levi's warmth pressed against his side leaving butterflies dancing in his stomach. As tired as he was, it was amazing the man could cause such a profound reaction in him, especially after a nightmare…_

_“Levi?” he murmured into the darkness._

_“Hm?”_

_“R-remember...when you kissed me, and you said you did it because you wanted to?” The words were just a breath._

_“Hmph, how could I forget that?” the older mumbled, shifting his weight a bit in such a way that he was pressed even closer to Eren's side._

_Eren forced a light chuckle. “Yeah, it’s just...I wish I had known what I was doing when you did that.”_

_Levi shifted again, this time tilting his head back to peer up at the teen through narrow eyes that only made out his silhouette. “What are you saying?”_

_Eren gulped audibly. Levi's hand was suddenly hot on his thigh, and he swore he could suddenly feel every curve, dip, and crevice of the man's muscular body against his. “I don't know,” he practically squeaked._

_Levi blew air out of his nose in an amused huff. He sat up a bit, tilting his chin in Eren's direction as he squinted to see more of the brunette's features. His brilliant green irises managed to reflect the dim starlight from the window when he turned to face the raven directly._

_“Do you want a second chance?” he murmured. His heart picked up the pace at the mere thought of feeling Eren's soft lips against his own again. Though the last time barely counted due to Eren's freezing up, it still sent a thrill down his spine. He couldn't imagine what actually kissing him might feel like. He swiped his tongue between his own lips in anticipation._

_“I-I don't know,” the teen muttered again, his voice edgy with nervousness._

_Levi sighed and relaxed again. “Well if you do, let me know,” he breathed. Lifted a hand and ran it through his hair once more, suppressing his disappointment. It was silly, he thought, wanting something so trivial such as a kiss, especially after having said he shouldn't have gotten so close to the kid in the first place._

_‘Whatever,’ he thought, shutting his eyes and crossing his arms. He knew he wasn't going to get any more sleep, not after the nightmare Eren pulled him out of, but he figured it couldn't hurt to try, and push the fruitless fantasies out of his mind…_

_He felt the bed shift and Eren's heat move away. Pictured the kid laying back down, tucking his arm beneath his head and curling his legs up like he always did. Flexed his jaw muscles a few times, the disappointment thickening as he resisted the urge to sigh again through his nose._

_And then he felt the warm air brush over his lips, nose, and cheeks, subtly scented like the mint toothpaste distributed to everyone in the corps…_

_His eyes snapped open a split second before a pair of soft lips collided with his. The second between then and the one in which his mind processed what was happening seemed more like ten minutes, and they were both still throughout the entirety of it._

_Before Eren could move away - Levi knew he would if they remained so still any longer - he pressed their mouths closer together, shutting his eyes once more, and sliding a hand to the back of Eren's neck to pull him closer. He could feel Eren's hesitance and uncertainty, but he didn't let it stop them. He guided Eren through it, not really knowing himself what he was doing, but let his instincts guide him._

_When they did pull apart, Eren's hands were shaking. He curled them into fists and pulled them back into his lap._

_“I…”_

_“Shh.” Levi rested his forehead against Eren's. A minute passed with nothing more than the sound of breathing._

_“C-can we do that again?” Eren whispered._

_Despite a voice in the back of his mind screaming ‘this is wrong!’, Levi couldn't argue with the request and pulled Eren in again, this time with more vigor and emotion. A dangerous amount, at that. More than he should've let himself ever feel in such a fucked up world._

_Eren's hands found his waist as Levi let his arms snake up around the other's neck. He was practically straddling Eren now, fingers tangled through his hair and chests pressed together._

_“Shit,” Levi muttered after breaking contact of their lips._

_“What?” Eren breathed._

_“I...I shouldn't have done that.”_

_“But I did it.”_

_“I shouldn't have let you.”_

_“How come?”_

_Gray eyes flickered to green ones. The sun was rising, swallowing the darkness of the room bit by bit with every second ticking by. Eren's flushed caramel skin and plump lips were much more visible now. Levi could feel the off-tempo beating of their hearts between them._

_“Because...” He began pulling himself back, as much as he didn't want to. “If I lost you, it would kill me.”_

_Eren's thought process stopped short, the miniscule bit of panic that had been rising up in his gut morphing into something he couldn't explain and exploding, traveling to the very ends of his fingertips and toes. For a moment, he seemed to forget how to speak._

_Levi's gaze, once steady, fell as he broke all contact with the boy. “I hate it,” he muttered again. “But the closer we get, the more it will hurt if something happens to you.” Swung his legs over the side of the bed, stood up, pushed the curtains open. Dim gray light flooded in; Eren's eyes were glued to the headboard in front of him at the space Levi had just occupied._

_“Then...why do you let me in every night I come up here?” He took a deep breath. “And why have you come to the basement? Why did you kiss me that night?” The questions started pouring out. “Why did you kiss me now? Why have you been the one to pull me out of my titan when we've been testing it? Why did you promise to stay, and why did you take it upon yourself to change my bandages while my hands needed them?” By the end, he was out of breath and his voice was tremulous._

_Levi was silent for a long minute. And then finally: “Pulling you out of your titan is part of my job, and so is making sure you're healthy and safe. That's also why I bandaged you.”_

_“But that doesn't tell me why you promised to stay!” His voice rose unintentionally, his desperate eyes tearing from the headboard to the man near the window._

_“Shh!” Levi snapped. Arms crossed, shoulders squared. Stubborn. But he didn't have an answer._

_“It's not fair,” Eren muttered. “You do all of that...make me feel like I'm important to you in a way that’s more than just being your subordinate, and then suddenly you change your mind.”_

_“You are important to me.” The words were barely intelligible. “But the fact is that chances are one of us is going to die out there. If I get any closer to you…” He shook his head. “I don't want to take that risk.”_

_“It doesn't matter, Levi.” Eren's voice was pleading now. “Even if we go out there tomorrow, or they break in again and one of us gets killed, or if we manage to defeat them and stay this close, we're going to die someday anyway...so I don't...I don't understand why we can't take that risk.” His voice broke with the emotion building up in his chest._

_More silence. Eren was preparing to stand up and leave without another word. He’d made it to the end of the bed and placed his feet on the floor by the time Levi said anything._

_“You're right,” he murmured. Eren looked back to find Levi turned halfway around, eyes trained on the floor and arms still crossed._

_And then Eren did stand up. He strode soundlessly over to the shorter man, biting his lip, and reached a hesitant hand toward him. They ended up in each others’ arms, holding tight as they dared, Eren's head dipped with Levi's face pressed into his shoulder the way it had been in that building those months ago._

_“If anything happens to you…” he mumbled into the fabric of Eren's shirt._

_“I can't promise it won't,” he whispered back._

_“I know. I can't either.”_

_“But...I'll stay as long as I can.”_

_“Sure you won't regret this?”_

_“Are you?”_

_“...yeah. I am.”_

_“Me too.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, not the best chapter I've ever written, ha. I know this fic is kind of slow-moving right now, but I promise it'll pick up. I have interesting things planned. There is still planning to do (remember when I said this is gonna kinda be a surprise to me, too? lol) but I'm pretty excited for what's to come.
> 
> Also, sorry if Hanji's pronouns get mixed up...I honestly forgot what I originally was using so if I put "she" earlier and then "they" later, it's because I was too lazy to go back and look xD But I'll be referring to them as "they" from now on, so yeah. :)


	9. "Pipe dream."

I always used to suck at staring contests. But there's something about Thomas’s washed out blue eyes that's so easy to stare right into, stubbornness set in both my jaw and my shoulders, squared with my arms crossed. He stares right back, too, calm and collected as always. Patient. It pisses me off.

It started with a question. “Have you been taking your medication, Eren?”

An answer. “No.”

Without missing a beat: “Why not?”

And then the staring began. After what felt like a minute or so, I started counting the ticks of the second hand of the clock on his desk. 200 seconds of staring, and counting.

What am I supposed to tell him, that the tea mixture that's supposed to help my PTSD gives me strange dreams, or that it gives it a strange, salt-like flavor that I hate because the flavor of tea is all I really have left of Levi? Right.

There's very little I can say to him that won't give away the true relationship that went on behind what everyone thought. I don't know what he'd do or say if he ever found out, but I have no intention of finding out.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised that he could tell I haven't been taking it, though. The littlest things set me off. I tend to curl in on myself a lot, or hug my knees in a pathetic fetal position because I'm afraid of everything around me. The meds didn't fix it, but the two times I took them, they calmed my mind...until the strange dreams started.

“Do they help?” he finally asks.

Do I lie? “Sort of.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“No.”

He sighs, runs a lazy hand across his wrinkled forehead. “You have to keep taking them, Eren, or they won't help at all.”

Tell me something I don't know, old man.

“Okay,” he lets out in another sigh. “Well then let's talk. Did you dream last night?”

I size him up for a second longer. “Yeah.”

“About?”

“Rory was eaten.”

“By a titan?”

He doesn't miss my flinch. “No, by a horse,” I roll my eyes, and then can't help but snort at the unfortunate joke, what with Rory's father being Jean and all…

His bushy brows lift, and I try to count the wrinkles on his forehead before they're gone. I only make it to about ten. “Explain to me what's amusing about your dream,” he presses.

“Nothing.”

He's getting tired of my quipped, sarcastic answers, but I couldn't be having more fun with him. _This_ is what's amusing. The dream? Not nearly.

“Then why are you laughing?”

“It wasn't a laugh.”

Third sigh, and he leans back. “Okay. Recount the dream for me.”

I stiffen, and suddenly all my playfulness has vanished, just like the smoke from a pipe disappears into the air. The staring starts over.

“Remember what we talked about,” he says. “Once you talk about it, you can make peace with it and let it go.”

“Easier said than done.” I suddenly can't look at him anymore. My trachea seems to contract and air's harder to suck in.

“I understand.”

Anger strikes through me - hot, quick, familiar. Never mind not being able to look at him anymore; I glare, hoping my eyes burn holes right through him like I can shoot heat out of them or something.

“What?” I grind out through my teeth.

“Your thoughts are difficult to talk about, and I understand that,” he says calmly, like he can't sense my rage.

“Like _hell_ you do,” I spit.

Thomas leans forward again, gently placing his hands on his desk with the _oodles_ of patience he seems to have. “Take a deep breath, Eren. We all have things that are hard to talk about. You're not alone and-”

“ _Shut up_ ,” I sneer. “Shut the _hell_ up and stop blabbering on like you know what it is to be faced with those giant man-eating beasts!” My voice raises with every word; anger boils up from my very core. “Like you know what it is to breathe in death and watch the people you called your friends die right in front of you when there's _nothing_ you can do about it!” I’m practically screaming now, leaning forward to get in his face. Dizzy; hot, angry tears pool in my eyes and distort his already wrinkled-to-hell face. “Or like you know what it's like to let _everyone_ who was _depending_ on you down because you can't transform anymore! Like...like you've watched the only person you've ever truly loved die _right in your arms_! Just...just _SHUT UP_!"

My breathing is ragged, my face just inches from this bastard’s with my hands clamped around the edge of his desk, knuckles white. I'm shaking with so much anger that my vision actually tints red, and if I get any dizzier I know I'll throw up, but at this point I couldn't care less.

And Thomas is nothing short of shocked, maybe even a little fearful. He's leaned back, eyes just a bit wider than normal.

I don't know how much time passes before he finally says, “You're dismissed.”

I seize my sketchbook from his desk and whirl around and out of the office, making it a point to slam the door behind me. The sound reverberates through the hallways, but I don't stop. Once I'm outside, I start running blindly with no destination in mind. It's as if the fresh air cleanses me, because the more of it I gulp in past sudden borderline hysterics, the more my anger dissipates like it's boiling water that’s been removed from the heat.

Somehow I end up beneath the tree Mikasa gave me the news about Rory under. I plant my back against the trunk and slide down, ignoring the way my shirt catches the bark and scrapes at my exposed skin. With my sketchbook hugged to my chest, I press my face into my knees, curling in on myself and squeezing my eyes shut as the memories rush forward, dragging pain along with them.

* * *

That was the last time I saw Thomas before we left. The night before, I could still hear my own voice screaming at him as I tried to find rest. I considered bowing out of the “expedition”, but something in my mind urged me to go. So I went.

We set out exactly a month after Armin told me the plan. A large carriage - drawn by two huge jet black horses I’d never seen - is stocked with nonperishable food, a few suitcases and sleeping bags, more books than I think to be necessary, and ourselves.

It's just the four of us - myself, Hanji, Armin, and Erwin, who, as commander, decided to tag along at the last minute despite still being in the middle of a few things with the Stationary Guard. Five, counting the carriage driver (who's name I missed).

The sun is just barely making its appearance over the eastern horizon when we depart from the gate. It's a little unnerving, being out there without the protection of maneuver gear or a formation with hundreds of other soldiers surrounding on horses. Being able to see across the land of the outside world - so alive and waiting to be explored, with dew droplets clinging to the grass glinting in the light of sunrise - nags at my PTSD. My mind has been trained to, from the minute we exit the gate, to be on the lookout for titans, to listen for orders and stay in formation.

But there are no titans. No orders, no one to give them. And no formation to follow.

I sit on the edge of one of the benches inside the carriage wrapped in Levi’s cloak with my knees up, closed sketchbook in my lap, peering out at the passing world. All we see so far is what we're already familiar with. What's beyond that is what we seek; my stomach flutters a bit with anticipation, both nervous and excited.

But I can't stop thinking of the way I screamed at Thomas less than a day ago, or how I didn't go back to apologize. Over and over I rethink what I said, knowing it gave away far too much and probably had the old man shitting his pants where he sat at the venom seething in my voice. I carry a bubble of resentment for myself in my chest because of it.

“We plan to go eighty kilometers before we stop and rest,” Hanji explains, breaking me temporarily from my thoughts of self-loathing. “So if you have to pee, better hold it. Or, I suppose you boys can just tinkle out the window, but it isn't very ideal.” They wink in our direction. Armin just shakes his head, and the commander doesn't even look up from his map.

Hanji plops down on the bench next to him. “Once we get past our usual boundaries, we'll start mapping things out.”

They explained to us (or me, really) a few days ago that this little expedition was an experiment, a beta test for bigger ones to come in the future, to map out the planet and take it back in the name of humanity. The pride in their eyes was so contagious, it compelled me even further to come.

Eighty kilometers is a lot longer than it sounded at first. Eventually, my ass goes numb and I have to shift around. I draw a bit, too. Trees, or the inside of the carriage. A horse. Just to pass the time.

Hanji, of course, announces when we've gone further than ever dared before, supposedly indicated by something in the distance I don't even see. They and Armin get to work mapping out the things they see, instructing the carriage driver to slow us down a bit. I can't imagine how the hell they're doing that, but I've learned over the years not to question their brains and over-the-top methods. The fascination and happiness in their eyes, though, as opposed to the grim expressions we all know way too well from back _then_ , is enough for me.

By the time the carriage has come to a stop, I've dozed off. Armin shakes me awake, his tired but shining sky-blue eyes only a few inches from my face as I manage to peel my eyelids open.

“Look!” he says excitedly. What? Are we at the ocean already? He points out the window; my eyes follow his finger across unfamiliar land - hills covered in grass; some kinds of trees I'd never seen before; large rocks; and beyond that... _giant_ , jagged looking things, reaching up toward the sky and coming to a point, a hazy blue-green color with splotches of white here and there, particularly at the tops, right at the horizon, jutting out of the ground.

“Mountains!” Armin gushes. Quickly, he pulls his hair back to the nape of his neck and ties it off with a string before hopping out of the carriage to join Erwin and Hanji a ways away, gazing across toward the strange looking things.

I rub the sleep out of my eyes, a great curiosity surging in my blood, and follow Armin's path. We stand in a line. A breeze kicks up, light and soft, carrying with it a scent I've never known. It's…earthy, somewhat dusty, fresh, maybe even a little floral. I inhale it until my lungs are aching from being at full capacity and I'm forced to release it through my nose.

Absently, I can hear the other three making conversation a ways off while I can't take my eyes off of the scene in front of me. It reminds me of why I fought back then for all those years, of why I wanted to join the scouts in the first place. It's humbling. Fulfilling.

But not complete.

* * *

The journey continues the next morning. We're pulled away from the mountains just after the sun hefts itself out of its bed over their peaks, silhouetting them and casting their shadows across the grass. I feel like a child as we pull away and continue east, watching the giant land formations grow smaller and smaller with every thud of a horse hoof.

“I wish you could be here to see this, too,” I whisper. The wind swallows up my words, and some ill part of my mind believes it carries them to wherever he is.

* * *

Jagged mountains and rolling hills; giant craters in the ground; rushing waterfalls fueling wide rivers to small, trickling streams; large, dark, green forests and jungles. Things my mind, still trapped within cages with my comprehension confined only to what I learned growing up behind those forsaken walls will not let me understand, but hold a profound amount of beauty and diversity. These are the things that have not been perceived by human eyes for centuries. Awe. Adoration. Even shock. We feel them all.

And I barely have the capacity to enjoy any of it.

Every night as I curl up in a sleeping bag on the flattest part of the ground I can find, usually a ways away from the others, I still hear myself yelling at Thomas. I still find myself wishing Levi were here. My conscience plays out his death over and over, and it's like the blades of daggers being buried in my heart. Some nights I end up crying like a stupid little kid. Fruitless wishes is what it all is.

And sleep is no escape, because my I’m haunted in my dreams, too. I wake up often, paranoid a titan will come booming in attracted by our scent and ready to gobble us up like a starved dog.

Eventually I lose track of how long we've been out here. Fortunately, Hanji has been keeping a tally. Sixteen days, they tell me. But hell, it's felt like ten times as long as that.

The seventeenth and eighteenth day are rainy, but by the nineteenth day we've made it to the end of the storm system and the falling water subsides, showing us the vast sky again.

The twentieth day is when we find it. I don't see it at first; it blends right into the sky, and we're still too far to see any detail. But Armin sees it like he's known exactly what to be looking for. Hanji sees it next, their eyes sparkling with wonder just like Armin's. I'm the last to get it, thinking they're crazy until my eyes finally pick up the difference in motion at the edge of the sky. A stirring of sorts. Darker than where the atmosphere kisses the earth, and spanning left and right over a distance that's dizzying to comprehend. We speed up, and the closer we get, the more palpable the aroma of salt becomes. Trees are more sparse. Armin and I have our heads out the window, watching it come closer and closer until we can see the edge of it, pushing and pulling up onto the land, over a substance that almost looks like dirt, but is lighter in color, grainier, and glints a bit in the afternoon light. On the other end, the grass ends where the earthy substance begins, and that’s where we stop.

Armin, of course, is the first to scurry out before the carriage has come to a complete stop and the driver has put the brakes on. His enthusiasm and excitement brings forth the memory again of when we discovered the probability of this giant thing existing in that book, of that sparkle in his eyes as he spoke about the day we would be able to see it with our own eyes. Those were just pipe dreams back then, but now…

I follow the blond off of the carriage; he’s already at the edge of the grass, kneeling down and running his hands through the shifty substance on the ground. I can’t see his face, but I can imagine his expression. Just as I reach him, a holler of celebration sounds from behind. Hanji.

“We made it,” Armin breathes as I kneel down next to him. “We...we actually _made it_.” He’s brimming with disbelief.

I find it in me to smile and drag a finger through the earthy substance. “What is this?” I ask.

“Sand,” he says. “That’s the name it was given in the book.”

I pick up a few grains between the pads of my forefinger and thumb. It’s softer than dirt. Warm from the sun. I push my fingers underneath it, smile a little more. There’s something empty about the expression, I can feel it inside, but I don’t let it show. This was Armin’s ultimate dream; I don’t want to ruin it with my petty internal issues.

Unexpectedly, he grabs my wrist and hauls me to his feet. With an enthusiastic, ‘come on!’, he drags me toward the edge of the water where it laps up onto the sand, keeping it wet. We stand back a bit and look across, the scent of the saltwater filling our lungs, a cool spray floating through the air and washing gently over our skin. Strangely, the motion of the water sounds like wind, but wetter somehow. A breeze swirls around us, lifting my hair, Levi’s cape, rippling through our clothes.

“How deep do you think it goes?” Armin asks, but of course I have no answer. “The book said it covers something around seventy percent of the entire planet, and it’s all saltwater. I wonder what lives down there…” He goes on and and on with his ponderings, both of us staring across the blue-green surface like we’re trying to find the end of it at any point, though we can’t.

Eventually he runs off across the sand in the direction of Hanji, kicking off his shoes, the balls of his face creating miniature craters in the surface of the ground. Before I even consider following, a hand is placed on my shoulder. I flinch at the unexpected contact and turn to find Erwin standing behind me. He’s not looking at me, of course, but at the endless body of water with a smile on his face, his eyes reflecting the water.

“Did you ever think we’d make it this far?” he asks.

I answer him honestly. “No.”

“Neither did I. But we did. Thanks to those two.” He nods in the others’ direction. “And you.”

“I don’t think I played a big part in killing them all off,” I mumble.

“Maybe not a big part, but you did. You helped us take back what’s rightfully ours.”

I force a swallow. “Wall Maria.” That seems so small and insignificant now, being here and comparing it to this vast, unknown thing in front of us.

“Yes. And this.”

I don’t understand what he means, but I decide not to question him further. I simply want to revel in the moment. Eventually, Erwin’s hand falls from my shoulder and he walks away, but not before saying, “He would be proud of you, Eren.”

Moments after his footsteps have faded out of earshot down the edge of the sand, I sink to my knees, pull the sketchbook - something that’s been tucked under my arm the whole time - into my lap, slide the pencil from the spiral. I want to draw this. I want him to see it, too. I don't know how well my hand and the graphite will be able to capture this magnificent, ever-changing picture of beauty, but I have to try. This art, I feel, is my closest connection to him, and if there’s anyone I want to share this with, it’s him. Always him.

I must sit there for hours, glancing up and down between the beauty in front of me and the shit I try to create on the page. I tear through four, five, six pages before giving up. I can’t put anything on the page worthy of it, let alone worthy of showing to Levi. _Like he’s still here and waiting for me to get back and show him a stupid picture._

I’m crazy. So fucking sick in the head…

I shut the book and toss it away out of frustration, somewhere up in the dry part of the sand, and pull my knees up. Rest my chin on one of them. The sun has gone from hanging high and proud among the clouds to low and lazy near the horizon. Its rays cast and reflect across the water, and as it moves, looks like a thousand golden, dancing stars. I stare at it until it’s little more than a glow and I realize the voices have disappeared.

In a strike of panic, I whip around only to find a barefooted Armin crossing the sand in my direction. Before reaching me, he retrieves my sketchbook and brushes the sand from it; holds it out and sits down next to me after I take it.

“You should get something to eat,” he says. He begins shifting his fingers through the sand, buries his toes in it.

“I’m fine.”

“You’ve been sitting here since midday. I think you’re probably hungry.”

He’s right, but that doesn’t mean I have an appetite - especially not for _another_ can of room temperature soup. I put my head back down and mimic his actions, picking up a handful of sand and letting it slip through my fingers. It’s silent for a while; eventually the sun and all of its light has disappeared, leaving the water to reflect the stars and light of the pale moon instead.

“I almost don’t want to leave,” Armin tells me after a while. “Years of waiting to get here only to be able to enjoy it for a few hours. It’s not fair.”

“You’ll come back,” I assure him.

He hums in agreement. “Will you?”

“Maybe.”

Another hum. “I think about how my parents escaped the walls to seek this out a lot.” He spreads his legs out in front of him. “I know they didn’t make it this far, but I sometimes like to think their spirits did.”

I glance over at him. A sad smile is spread across his lips; a few strands of his hair dance in the wind, his hands stilled in the sand.

“I bet they did. I bet they all did. Before us.”

He turns that smile on me and nods. “I bet you’re right.” A beat of silence. “I expected to die myself out there.”

“Out where? Out here?”

A breathy laugh. “Yeah, I guess so. I was never physically strong, you know. I was lucky, I suppose.”

“If it’s luck that kept you alive, then it was what kept all of us alive. Any of us could’ve gotten eaten out there at any moment…” _Flash_. Blood. Broken gear. _Flash, flash_. Eyes on fire. _Flash_. Grass stained by a puddle of crimson.

_'And thank you, Eren...for making all this shit worth it in the end…'_

“Eren?”

I lean over, pressing my palms to my temples as the memories flash, blindingly fast, behind my eyelids.

_‘Just shut up!’_

Pain.

_‘Like you know what it is to breathe in death…!’_

Flashes.

_‘Like you’ve watched the only person you’ve ever truly loved die right in your arms!’_

Burning. _Stop. Oh, god, stop this pain…_

I think I hear my name, I think I feel something cold wash over my feet, but overall I feel like I’m vibrating, like something is shaking me from the inside and I can’t stop it, I can’t, I can’t…

_‘Yeah, Eren. I’ll stay.’_

At the top of my lungs I scream, _“You lied!!”_

* * *

_"Do you think we'll ever win this war?"_

_"Maybe."_

_Eren pressed his forehead to Levi's bare chest, shutting his eyes. What kind of answer was 'maybe'?_

_"Maybe you think about it?"_

_"No," Levi muttered in the tone that suggested he thought Eren was an idiot. He did, but Eren never minded. "I think maybe we'll win."_

_"Hm."_

_"Why do you ask?"_

_"Because I'm tired of being caged like an animal."_

_Levi blew air out of his nose, something just short of a chuckle. "I know."_

_"I want to see the ocean," he said, suddenly flopping onto his back and spreading his limbs out, searching for one of Levi's hands among the sheets in the dark._

_"The...ocean?" Levi asked, sliding his fingers between Eren's, turning onto his back as well._

_"Mhm. Something Armin told me about when we were kids."_

_"And how the hell does Armin know about it?"_

_"A...book." Eren felt his cheeks heat up a bit, knowing the book in question was illegal. It wasn't like Levi was going to chew him out for it or anything, but it felt strange telling an authority figure he'd broken the law. Though, it seemed ridiculous to be nervous about that when Levi knew he and Mikasa had taken down three men with a knife when they were even younger._

_"A book."_

_"Something his parents had...I don't know. But I want to see it someday."_

_"What is it?"_

_Eren recounted what he could recall about the enormous body of water, as well as other things he remembered about the book. Hot deserts and cold deserts and falling, rushing water and forests and jungles with more wildlife than his mind, only able to comprehend as much of the world as humanity had during those days, could comprehend._

_"Sounds like a pipe dream to me," Levi murmured._

_Eren swallowed and closed his eyes. "I know. I'll probably die before we can get there. But I can still hope."_

_Levi pulled Eren's hand up to his lips and gently kissed his knuckles. "And if you don't die before we get there? What will you do? Just rush out to find it?"_

_"Maybe." Eren grinned a bit, turned his head to look at the other, who'd already been gazing at him from the start. "Would you go with me?"_

_"Hmph," scoffed the corporal. "You're hopeless, aren't you?"_

_"What's that supposed to mean?" Eren grumbled, pulling his hand away and crossing his arms over his chest._

_Levi propped himself up on an elbow, a brow cocked. "You know what it means, kid."_

_The brunette sized him up for a minute, trying to come up with a snide remark to reply with. When he could think of none, he merely rolled his eyes back to the ceiling and said, "You never answered my question."_

_"You want me to go with you, huh?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Then yeah. I'd go."_

_Eren couldn't help the smile that broke out across his face. He sat up and practically threw his arms around Levi's shoulders. Despite it being only a 'pipe dream', the simple thought of venturing beyond the walls without the threat of titans and discovering what the planet had to offer with the one who had his heart gave him more hope than he'd ever had. It multiplied his will to fight and protect. In that small moment, he truly believed they'd get there someday._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I have never seen the ocean, so I did the best I could in describing it from what I've seen in, like, movies. I also kinda used my experience in having seen Lake Michigan and expanded on it a little but lmao idk, man.
> 
> Also, sorry if this feels a little rushed? I'm just really anxious to get to a certain part. Dx
> 
> Anyway, as always, thanks for reading and let me know what you think. ♥


	10. Spill.

It took ten less days to get back within the confines of the walls than it did to make it to the ocean, and while no one said it, I know it was due to my breakdown. We left the morning after, and the whole time I could feel one set of concerned eyes or another on me.

It isn't like that was the first time such a thing had happened, though it was the first time it occurred in front of people. Anyone but Thomas, anyway. But what he's witnessed wasn't nearly as bad as that. On the ride back, I'd come down from the outburst and didn't feel the rage and pain as much as I felt embarrassment. I kept quiet the whole time and let them believe I was still in such a state.

Ten days without talking is _long_ , but the first person I speak to is the one I harbored guilt because of before we left.

“I’m sorry,” I say, head bowed like a child. “I shouldn't have yelled at you like that, I just snapped, a-and-”

I'm cut off by his hand being placed on my shoulder. My head snaps up to find him smiling warmly at me, and I hate it because I don't deserve it.

“You don't have to be sorry, Eren. In fact, you were right in some of the things you said. I simply thought it might help if you thought someone could identify with the way you're feeling, but it makes sense that no one can ever truly understand what's happening in your mind but you. So I should be the one apologizing. I should be more sensitive. It is part of my job, is it not?” He gives my shoulder a squeeze. “And if you're still feeling trapped and holding it all in so you explode like that, I'm clearly not doing my job the way I should be.” He reaches behind him and twists the knob to his office. Holds the door and gestures me inside.

I'm admittedly a bit dumbfounded at first. I came with an apology and the intention of leaving when I'm finished but end up being the one apologized to and invited right back into his office. Even though I don't deserve it…

Still, I step back into the office, sink down into the chair. Watch as he goes around the desk and takes his own seat. That smile never leaves his wrinkled face, and it's beginning to make me uncomfortable. But it isn't like I have the right to say anything.

He starts off simple.

“How was your trip?”

“O-okay, I guess.” He raises his ugly brows at me, his own non-verbal way of telling me that isn't enough. So I take a deep breath and tell him. About the mountains and rivers and how absolutely enormous the world outside the walls is, and how I’m certain we haven't seen even a fraction of what all is out there. (Armin's words.) About the ocean.

“Did you draw?” he asks, nodding at the sketchbook in my hand. Wordlessly I offer it to him. He sets it on the desk and begins to flip through. Past the trees and the horse, Armin and Hanji leaning over a map, scribbling. Their faces hadn't come out right, so I'd blurred them out. He continued on through a few others...the mountains, and then to all my failed attempts at the ocean. He asks about them and I reluctantly explain, leaving out everything about wanting to share the scene with Levi. I tell him simply that I wanted to capture it and remember it, but couldn't.

He buys it, but that doesn't stop him from bringing the dreaded part of my outburst up.

“I think we can both agree that what happened during our last meeting needs to be addressed,” he says, gently shutting the book.

A lump forms in my throat. No, wrinkle-face, we can't really agree on that. I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to have to explain the meaning behind my words. But I fucked up, and now there's nothing I can do about it, no way I can worm my way out of it.

“I think we've already resolved most of the issue, but we both know there is another you brought forward. Despite it having been out of anger, I'm glad you've finally opened up about it.” _Yeah, like I meant to._ “Something tells me it's what's causing a great deal of your emotional pain, no?”

I stay quiet. Thankfully, the silence isn't too long.

“Are you okay with talking about it?” Do I have a choice? Still, I don't answer. Thomas leans toward me, attentive. “You loved someone,” he puts simply.

And what the hell am I supposed to say to that? Did my screaming and spitting in his face not make that clear enough? Nonetheless, I find myself nodding.

“Is it safe to say you were _in_ love with this person?”

I press my lips together. Force a swallow. Nod again.

“And they died in your arms.”

My eyes slam shut. He's pulled the trigger again, but this time it wasn't aimed at anger, but pain. Sorrow. Loss. My hands start shaking; I curl them into fists. I see it all again, for the hundred thousandth time, but it doesn't hurt any less than witnessing it the first.

“There's only one person you've ever told me has passed away in your arms, Eren. I don't want to assume anything, so that's why I'm asking…”

God, I want him to shut up. I want to get in his face again and tell him to stop, because every word out of his mouth tugs another painful memory forward, be it about Levi or not. Most of them are, and most of them are the better times between us. The times lying in his or my bed, when we'd be there for each other and closer right under everyone's noses, when we'd kiss or simply lie together...his head on my chest or mine on his…

And it all hurts way too much.

“Hey, Eren, don't blank out on me now,” Thomas coaxes in a gentle voice. My whole body is shaking now.

Blank out. That's what he calls it when I supposedly go into a stupor, staring into space or curling in on myself, or having episodes I don't usually remember later…

I manage to open my eyes a bit, but the tears flooding through them make it impossible to see clearly anyway. I can feel them pouring down my cheeks, my neck, even soaking into the collar of my shirt.

“It's okay, Eren,” Thomas says. Like it's a promise. “You're safe.”

But that's not the problem. How can I speak, when my throat is closing up? How can I tell him the truth, when I've hidden it for so long? How will telling the truth help, anyway?

“He's...gone,” is all I manage. My voice sounds like it belongs to someone else.

“I know,” Thomas says. So gentle, but it doesn't help.

“He promised,” I choke. “He promised to stay…but he lied.” I sound ridiculous. I can't stop myself. “He fucking lied. Got his stupid legs bitten off and _died_. But it's my fault...my stupid fault…” My eyes burn; I press the heels of my hands into them and hunch over.

“It isn't your fault. You did all you could have done.”

“No!! I wasn't fast enough. I couldn't turn into a titan. I...I couldn't…I couldn't save him…” Weak. Broken. Pathetic.

“Did he love you?”

What?

I can't decide if I wanna scream or just go to sleep, but I know I don't want to answer that question. I don't want to dive back into those memories. Everything inside me screams for me to avoid it because they're too painful to be near. And I don't want to answer it because I don't know the answer.

“We kissed,” I manage to sputter out. Staring blankly at the floor, vision out of focus. “He let me in his room at night. S-sometimes he'd come to mine. He...he kept telling me it was wrong, but he never denied me. Never told me to leave. He comforted me sometimes, when...when I was weak. He made me tea...and told me his secrets. I told him mine. His hands...were kinda rough...but always warm. He dressed my wounds a-and made me tea. Told me about his mother...and listened about mine, a-and cut me out of my t-t-titan when…” A sob finally breaks from my chest, but I have to keep going. I have to, but I don't know why. “I wanted to see the ocean with him. He...said he would go...but he never got to. S-so I tried to draw it for him...but…”

I'm finally out of words and mentally slapping myself for sounding so ridiculous, like such a baby. It's been years. I should be over this by now. Why am I not over this?

And Thomas doesn't know what to do; he can only move around his desk with a box of tissues and a place hand on my shoulder, letting me ride my shitty emotions out.

* * *

There's an emptiness in my chest. A hollow thumping, pushing the blood throughout my body. But where the feeling should be, there is nothing at all. He took it when he left, as if it belonged to him. Like it was his most prized possession that he could never part with. He took it and he left me here like this. Empty, wounded, and not even bleeding.

Three bottles are aligned on the window sill. One contains sand. White and soft; in my imagination, I can feel it running between my fingers, enveloping my feet, it's smooth texture under my heels, warm from the sun. In another, shells. Collected by Armin and myself, temporarily mute, at the edge of the water. The colors are different now that they're dry, but they're unlike anything I've ever seen.

And in the third, simply water. Salt water, shining a subtle greenish-blue in the sunlight streaming in from the window through it. Tiny particles float about in it, whatever they are. It's a tiny version of the ocean in and of itself.

I sit on the bed, sketching. I've given up trying to draw the ocean. It's fruitless. So I draw a set of wings instead, one overlapping the other. Half shaded, half white. A symbol I've seen a thousand times and admired since I was a kid.

_Freedom._

* * *

“Miss me?” I joke on the top of the wall. “I don't have anything of absolute significance this time. Sorry.” I run my finger down one of the creases. “And I'm sorry...for spilling our secret. I...guess it doesn't matter all that much, because you've been gone for years. But still.” I huff. “Anyway. Here.”

I stand up, poise the nose of the little plane away from the wall, pull back and snap forward, just like always. It floats away, away, away, the way I do more and more every day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter. My apologies. But this fic is about to pick up, I promise. I can't wait to get the next chapter written and posted, and I'm excited to see reactions :3


	11. Reappearance.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren wakes up to find one of his planes has somehow returned to him.

I wake up in Levi’s room again.

When I realize where I am, I’m certain I fell asleep in my own last night, and I have no memory of going all the way upstairs and crawling into his bed and snuggling my way between the sheets. Judging by the warmth around me, it’s clear I’ve been here a while. The window is even cracked and the curtains flutter a bit as summer night air pushes through the narrow opening. From the looks of what little of the sky I can see, it’s still hours before sunrise. A silvery light shines in and splays out on the bed across my lap. A full moon, I think.

I sigh, run a hand through my messy hair to push it away from my face, and sit up. I know this can’t be good for me, but I also know I didn’t make the conscious decision to find my way all the way up here from my room in the basement. It only makes me wonder what kinds of things my subconscious brings forth that I don’t remember upon waking…

Another soft breeze pushes through and moves something near the end of the bed near my feet. A piece of paper, it looks like. It’s folded in a specific, precise way, bearing wings and a tip for functional aerodynamics.

A paper airplane.

Frowning a bit, I wonder if I’m in a dream after all and reach for it. Take a wing between my thumb and forefinger. It’s relatively thick paper, just like what’s in my sketchbook, and I realize it’s folded exactly the way I learned all those years ago. But there isn’t any way this plane can be mine; every one I’ve folded in the past several years had been launched off the wall and I’d watched them all float away until I could no longer find sight of it.

_What the hell?_

But I can’t bury my blossoming curiosity. Slowly, carefully, I begin to pull at the edges and unfold it, smooth out the creases. I’m about halfway done when I angle it toward the light and see it. A feather. Not a real feather, of course, but one drawn in not too much detail on the paper in graphite. A feather next to another next to another to create an entire wing. White. Unshaded. In perfect array.

“What the hell?” I whisper aloud, my brows set together in a deep, confused frown.

I can’t help but finish unfolding the little plane, and sure enough, there they are - the overlapping wings symbolizing freedom, or the longing for it. The ones I’d drawn only hours earlier, and I know it’s mine because, as I’d tore the page from the sketchbook, I’d accidentally torn the corner. And there it is, that tiny little rip.

And I have to ask myself: _I did...throw this...earlier this evening, didn’t I?_

I swear I did. I swear I remember journeying all the way out to Wall Maria as I do nearly every day with it tucked away under the inside-out cloak, and talking out loud like a crazy person before launching it off the edge. _Like always._

But my head is so messed up that I can’t be entirely sure it actually happened or if it happened in a dream or if my brain has simply made me believe it did when it actually didn’t.

And yet, something tells me that’s not the case. I’m a headcase, but I’m not that crazy. This was put here on purpose. I woke up here for a reason and found this damned little plane for _something_. I don’t know how I know, but I do, and I haven’t been so certain of something in years.

And that same strange sixth sense is telling me to go back to the source - the last place I saw the drawing at. The top of Wall Maria. The answer will be there.

 _Hell, I’m a fucking lunatic_ , I’m thinking the entire time I pull myself out of the bed, not bothering to make it or even pull the blankets back up, and heading back down the stairs to the basement where my own room is. I wrap myself in Levi’s cloak and shove my feet, without socks, into a pair of shoes. I never let go of the plane, not even as I tiptoe quickly up the stairs and out the front door.

The night is cool. Only a few clouds float by in the sky, obscuring some of the stars. The moon accompanies them, illuminating whatever its light touches in a silvery-white beam, casting shadows of trees, buildings, other plants, myself. Other than being thankful for the moon to light my way, I pay it very little mind. I have a goal, and little time to be stargazing.

For some reason, the trip all the way to the other wall is a lot shorter tonight than it seems during the day, and it takes me at least an hour to get there. Something inside continues to chant that I’m insane, but I don’t care, I don’t care, I have to know what the reappearance of this airplane means, if anything.

Though, knowing my luck, I’ll make it to the top of the wall to find absolutely nothing out of the ordinary and this will have been a wasted trip and wasted time I could’ve used to sleep. But with that sudden determination and absolute certainty I hold, I don’t care.

The moon is directly overhead when I step into the elevator. At first I’m a little unsure; I’ve never operated one of these before, but I’m sure I’ve seen the construction workers maneuver them enough times that I think I can figure it out. I push a lever to the right upward; the contraption jerks and then I’m ascending, watching the ground grow further and further away from me until I’m all fifty meters up and the elevator stops and jerks once more.

When I take the first step from it and onto the stone surface of the wall, I’m already looking around for answers. I see none at first, but I walk. Whatever it is, it won’t be this close to the elevator; I never stay so close, either. I like my privacy when I’m up here. Drawing. Talking to no one and believing someone can hear me. Having a breakdown. Whatever it is, I always walk toward the north. So that’s what I do.

My heart hammers against my ribs, my breath coming in light pants. Anxious. The breeze from earlier has died down, leaving the night warm and clouds still in the sky. It’s eerily quiet; the normal, distant sounds of construction I’m used to hearing absent. All I hear is my own breath and footsteps. Feel nothing but the warm, fresh air and the drawing still in my grasp. The scent of the air is normal; cut wood, grass, summer flowers. Everything appears absolutely normal, and my pace slows. I’m only a few meters past my usual place when I stop altogether, looking around. Nothing, absolutely nothing.

 _Dammit_. And I was so sure…

I walk to the outer edge of the wall, sit, and pull the drawing up, smoothing it out again. I gaze at it for a long while. Disappointed. Unsure. A little angry.

“Idiot,” I mutter to myself. “What the hell did you think would be waiting for you up here, anyway?” I sigh heavily and lean my head back, gazing through hooded eyes at the vast, endless sky.

Sure as ever, the sky is alight with every star, pulsing and dancing with its own twinkling little beat. Happy, but surreal. I wonder if he’s up there, among them, looking down at me and rolling his eyes at all of the stupid shit I’ve been doing since his heart stopped. Every breakdown, every tear, every skipped meal, every drawing. _Pathetic._

I’m just about to close my eyes when a strange, shadowy movement catches my attention from the right. Quickly, I swivel my head to find an awkward... _figure_ a ways down. It’s silhouetted somehow, and I can’t make out any defining features. It’s about the size of a human, I think, and I can make out the outline of two legs and a head turned away from me. But what throws me is the torso. Where it should be, a strange black mass is instead, giving it the illusion of being greatly top-heavy. It seems to tremble a bit, but makes no sound or any other movement.

I’ve really gone nuts at this point. I’ll have to go to Thomas in the morning and tell him to lock me up where I can be alone with my hallucinations and dreams and reappearing paper airplanes as not to disturb or harm anyone around me. What makes me the most insane, I think, though, is the fact that I’m not afraid of whatever that... _thing_ is over there. Not in the slightest.

A breeze picks back up. It stays still. I remain where I am, staring at it.

And then the figure swivels its head in my direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, I know. But I'm excited for what comes after this, meaning I'll be working on it quickly and will probably have it up soon. :3


	12. You Promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of a little filler chapter while I'm working on the next. It's all just a flashback. So yeah. & sorry about the shitty title; it's 5 AM, I can't sleep, and I'm not feeling particularly creative at the moment.

_Eren's hands shook vigorously as the bandages were peeled off, agonizingly slow, from the bite marks in his hands. He had a lip trapped between his teeth, grimacing at the pain and trying not to make a sound._

_As soon as the wounds made their reappearance, his stomach churned. They were still bloody, the skin around them swollen and red. Angry looking. He had to keep himself from passing out again._

_The medic in front of him had a deep frown set across her thin blonde brows. Her touch was gentle as she leaned closer, examining his hands further._

_“Am I wrong to assume these should have healed by now?” she asked._

_“No…”_

_“Hmm. We should get someone who knows more about you to look at these before we bandage them,” she said. Eren only nodded. Watched as she soaked a clean piece of gauze in alcohol. “This will sting a bit,” she warned before taking his hand again and gently dabbing at the wounds. He hissed in pain as the substance assaulted his injury. It burned. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes and he couldn't help but turn his head away until she was completely done with both hands._

_Almost as soon as she'd finished and tossed the bloody gauze into the trash, Levi hobbled over using a wooden crutch on the left side. He looked tired. No, exhausted, like he himself would collapse at any second. He said nothing, but frowned with eyes pointed at Eren's hands resting in the boy’s lap._

_“Still not healing, huh?” he murmured, resting his weight against the table Eren sat on. The teen could only shake his head; his entire body seemed to ache, his hands throbbing, his side stinging._

_“Any ideas why?” the medic asked him._

_The captain's eyes narrowed; he reached for Eren's hand and stopped just short, giving the brunette a questioning look, to which he nodded. His touch was light and tender as a butterfly’s wings, turning the limb back and forth to study the wounds. They were almost perfect molds of Eren's teeth; three bites on just the one hand and Levi swore he could count his teeth by these alone._

_“No steam,” he murmured. “I have no idea.” He released Eren's hand and glanced up at his face to find his head dipped, eyes mostly concealed by his hair and tears making trails down his dirty cheeks. Levi placed a gentle hand on Eren's shoulder, feeling a dull ache in his chest at the sight of more of Eren's tears, the way he had just hours earlier at the top of that building._

_“Oi, glasses!” he barked._

_From across the room, a bespectacled head snapped up. Levi nodded the owner of the head over, and in just seconds they were in front of him. Hanji, too, looked fatigued and haunted after the expedition, though this wasn't an uncommon sight._

_“Any ideas why he's not healing?” Levi asked, gesturing toward Eren's hands._

_Hanji leaned down and, without touching, inspected the wounds, peering through the thick lenses. After a moment, they stood up straight and shook their head._

_“Judging by multiple bite marks, I take it you didn't transform?” they asked the shaky brunette._

_“No,” Eren mumbled before dragging a sleeve across his face. Frustration and anger boiled around the edge of his striking green irises. “I couldn't.”_

_Hanji nodded thoughtfully. “Well it isn't like you've never exhausted your titan abilities before…”_

_“He still healed,” Levi cut in. Eren was hyper aware of his hand still resting atop his shoulder, and briefly wondered if Levi could feel him shaking._

_“Perhaps this is more profound than before,” they speculated. “We should get it bandaged and test it once he has healed. Get some rest for now, Eren. You need it. We all do.”_

_* * *_

_Later that night, Levi found his way to the mess hall from his room. The sun had long since gone down and he'd only managed to capture about an hour's sleep before he grew tired of the images flashing behind his lids every time he tried to find slumber again._

_He'd left his crutch behind his door in his room and halfway down the stairs found what a mistake that had been. His ankle wasn't just sprained or twisted, but fractured in two places. It'd been wrapped by a medic and he was ordered to keep it iced and elevated, but this wouldn't be the first time he'd disobeyed a doctor's ‘orders’. By the time he reached the door to the mess hall, he was forced to lean against the frame and let up his weight on the limb; he wasn't about to attempt ascending the stairs for the crutch now._

_Even on the first floor of the castle, he could hear the rain. Heavy and wet. Thunderous against the windows on the far wall of the large room, pattering the night away. A flash of lightning briefly lit everything up and threw shadows back, and in the brief second the corporal spotted a figure huddling near one of the large windows, curled up on the floor. Judging by the unruly hair sticking up, there was only one person it could've been._

_“Can't sleep either?” Levi asked, hobbling into the room using a few of the chairs as support._

_The figure jumped a bit at the sound of his voice; a head raised and swiveled in his direction. Bright green eyes reflected what little light shined in, and they were trained on him._

_“Guess not,” Eren murmured back. Eyed the way Levi was limping. “Where's your crutch?”_

_“Upstairs,” Levi said casually. He moved in the direction of the kitchen in pursuit of a cup of tea. Eren stumbled to his feet to follow._

_“You shouldn't be walking on your ankle like that,” he mumbled, eying his superior’s heavy limp._

_“Spare me,” Levi muttered back. He lit a torch in the kitchen and hobbled over to the kettle. Eren hovered in the doorway, arms wrapped securely around his stomach as he watched the man prepare the tea. All was silent save for the rain pattering against the building, and eventually the squealing of the tea kettle signaling it was finished. Steam rose from each of the two mugs as Levi poured it before setting a teabag and a spoon in each. Keeping one for himself, he offered the other to the boy lingering just a few feet away. His hands, bandaged so that the tips of his fingers were the only things visible (excluding his thumbs) cradled the cup by the bottom as he murmured a small ‘thank you’._

_“Let's go sit,” Levi murmured, nodding toward the dining room. Eren shuffled along, his socked feet soundless on the wooden floor. Another flash of lightning, followed not long after by muffled thunder. He took a seat at the end of the nearest table, just a few feet from the window. Watched as Levi hobbled over and followed the action, relaxing into the chair with a soft, tired sigh._

_“How're your hands?” Levi inquired after a stretch of silence._

_“Okay,” Eren replied, more so watching the tendrils of steam curl up and disappear into the air than actually drinking the beverage._

_Levi's eyes narrowed a bit, studying the bandaged limbs in search of a better answer. In the weak light, he could see darkened spots of blood seeping through the gauze. Remembering the way they swelled, Eren was surely in pain, and it surprised him just how much concern he held for his subordinate._

_The memory of their shared embrace passed fleetingly through his mind, and his eyes promptly flickered away._

_Another silence, this one perhaps a second shorter._

_“C-captain?”_

_“Levi,” the man corrected. “When it's only us...just Levi.”_

_He felt Eren's surprised stare boring into the side of his head, but he refused to look back at him and away from the miniature waterfalls sliding down the glass._

_“Okay. Well, I...I just wanted to apologize.”_

_“For?”_

_He could see Eren's concealed thumbs stroking absently along the sides of his ceramic cup. “For messing up.”_

_“You didn't. Not on purpose, anyway.”_

_Eren's head dipped slightly.“It's just...now our chances of defeating Reiner and Bertolt are slim to none…”_

_This time Levi couldn't help but glance back at the kid; he came to the realization of Eren's ignorance on the situation._

_“Eren. Reiner's dead.”_

_Like a mouse trap, Eren's head snapped up, shiny eyes the size of the moon. “Wh-what?!”_

_“Hanji had a plan, once the two of us went missing. I don't know the details, but supposedly it was a success. That damned armored titan is toast. I saw his body for myself.”_

_“And...and Bertolt?”_

_“Don't know. But word is he's lost without his fellow titan shit.”_

_Eren was completely shocked by the news. He started at Levi for a long minute before a gust of air blew through his lips, eyelashes fluttering in disbelief. “Wow. That's...good, I guess.”_

_“Mm? You don't sound so sure. He was a fellow soldier for a while, right? You're not feeling sentimental, are you?”_

_Immediately, the teen's brows furrowed. “Hell no. Those shitfaces are the reason my mother's dead.”_

_Levi scoffed lightly and lifted the cup to his lips for a small sip of tea, already cooling off._

_Eren sucked in a deep breath and shook himself of the sudden, although small, flare of anger. “Even though...I messed up out there…” He paused. Swallowed. “Thank you. For staying,” he mumbled in a small voice._

_Levi's eyes cut back to the right to see the kid out of their corners. “It's not like I had anywhere else to go.”_

_“I know. But you know what I mean.” Eren's lips pressed together, his fingers like vices around the warm mug. It strained at his wounds and caused them to sting, but it somehow kept him grounded as opposed to booking it from the room out of embarrassment._

_Know what he meant the captain did, but he gave only a small nod in response. The fresh memory of what happened in that room left the strangest of feelings in his stomach. Warmth, he thought, but couldn't be sure. It was subtle. He didn't remember the last time he'd been embraced like that, been so close to another person. The sensation left him confused and mildly dizzy._

_They'd been there until after dark, and just before Levi was about to make the decision for them to make their escape, Jean burst into the room with the rest of the Special Operations Squad in tow. Followed Eren's trail of blood, he said. They'd been lucky._

_“Here,” Eren offered softly, holding his hand out for Levi's now empty cup. The corporal pushed it gently toward him and watched him stand and stride toward the kitchen where Eren rinsed the cups and left them to be washed later. Back in the dining room itself, Levi had stood up and was staring blankly out the window at the rain._

_“We should get back to our rooms,” Eren murmured, hugging himself._

_“Yeah,” Levi agreed. With a soft sigh, he turned on his heel and began limping in Eren's direction, using the back of the nearest chair for support. Eren kept an eye out, noting the way he winced when he put the tiniest bit of weight on his bad ankle and walked on the ball of his left foot._

_“Would you like some help?” he offered._

_As soon as the question was out, Levi's face twisted up in pain, his knee buckled, and he started to go down. Eren acted quickly, reaching him in one stride and instinctively grabbing his arms to keep his superior upright. Levi's face ended up pressed to his chest, his arms extended forward and having grabbed the sides of Eren's sweater a little too roughly for the stitched cut spanning across his side. He gritted his teeth and focused on pulling Levi upright._

_“Shit,” Levi hissed, holding onto the teen in front of him for support. “Sorry.”_

_“You should've brought your crutch,” Eren murmured, concerned._

_“I'm fine,” the man insisted, but the twisted up expression and wrinkles between his brows suggested otherwise._

_That was when he caught sight of his subordinate's hands, the speckles from before having been erased by fresh blood blooming across the gauze. Fractionally, his eyes widened and he pulled himself away a bit, taking Eren's hand with the gentlest of touches. In his haste to keep Levi on his feet, he'd reopened the wounds._

_“Dammit,” he grumbled._

_“I'm okay,” Eren said quietly, withdrawing his hand from Levi's to cradle them to his chest._

_“Like hell you are,” Levi muttered. “Come on, we need to rebandage you.”_

_“What about you?”_

_“I'll just have to limp like an old man.”_

_“At least let me help you…”_

_Levi pressed his lips together, considering for a moment. Deciding the pain was too much to bear on his own and he'd already nearly fallen, he muttered a “fine”. Eren moved beside him and slid an arm around his waist while Levi's slung up around his neck. Fortunately, Levi remembered having left a roll of bandages up in his room, so the two weren’t required to hobble all the way to the other end of the building where the infirmary was and back. The stairs were a bit of a challenge, but they managed nonetheless._

_Eren couldn't help his shaking as Levi peeled the bloodied gauze from his hands, cleaned them up, and worked on wrapping clean ones around them, working carefully to mimic the way the medic had._

_“Good?” he asked, snipping it off and securing the tape._

_“Yeah,” Eren breathed. “You should lie down…”_

_“How's your side?” Levi asked, clearly ignoring the other's concern._

_“Fine,” Eren half-lied. He was sure it wasn't bleeding due to the stitches, but it throbbed painfully with every beat of his heart. “Thank you. For tending it...back there, I mean. I didn't say that before.”_

_Another flash of the memory - Eren pale and on the ground; the sensation of his hair as Levi's fingers were tangled through it; his warmth, and the steady beating of his heart beneath his palm; the fear of realizing Eren was hurt and losing blood…_

_“Would've been better if you'd just told me it was there,” he responded tiredly._

_“I know. I'm sorry.” Eren looked away, dejected._

_“Don't sweat it.” Levi ran a hand through his hair, sighing lightly. He began limping toward his bed, shuffling his feet along the wooden floor while using the desk, the wall, the window sill for support. Eren scrambled to assist, but Levi lifting a hand stopped him short. "You'll just open your wounds again," he said quietly. Winced as the weight was finally taken off his ankle as he sat on the edge of his bed._

_With concern swimming in his eyes, Eren took the crutch from behind the door and leaned it against the wall nearer the bed. "If you get up again, use it," he said, to which Levi lifted his brows in a way to say, 'who gave you the authority to give me orders?' but he said nothing. Eren continued, "Even if you just have to go to the bathroom...so...so you don't fall." And then he quickly retreated a bit, back toward the door. The way Levi's smoldering eyes seemed bore into him made him uneasy; for a second he feared he was showing too much concern for the captain._

_"Thanks," Levi finally sighed out, reclining back against his pillows. "You should get back to your room before someone catches you up here."_

_"Right..." Eren backed up another few steps, placed a hand on the knob and turned. He could feel Levi watching him, and that bothered him more than the stinging of his hands or the aching of his side or even the heaviness in his chest for how much of a burden he'd been during the expedition. He twisted the knob, pondering whether he should say 'goodnight' or 'see you tomorrow', or even thank him again for staying because it meant more to him than he knew he'd probably ever admit, but before he'd made a decision on whether to say anything at all, Levi was the one speaking up._

_"Hey," he called softly. From halfway out the door, Eren turned back, much too much hope filling his chest at a simple word. Levi's eyes as well as his words were steady and sure as he strung them together: “I don't make promises often, Eren...but when I do, I don't break them.”_


	13. Mystified.

Smoldering irises catch and reflect the silver moonlight, boring straight ahead. They aren’t angry, aren’t joyous or sad, but simply impassive. Stoic. Unreadable. I knew I’d never forget those eyes.

Once the eyes are visible, other features become easier to make out. Strong cheekbones; long, straight nose; strong jawline, thin lips I remember to be impeccably soft. Short stature, square shoulders, lean legs…

As soon as I’m on my feet I realize this might just be a trick of my own mind. It might just be that I’ve gotten so mentally ill that I’m beginning to hallucinate. That would surely explain the big black _wings_ sprouting out of his back…

But hallucination or not, he’s standing in front of me. Staring at me. My breath caught in my throat, I take a small, soundless step forward. He doesn’t move, just watches me. It takes a lot not to break into a flat out sprint to close the distance, but it’s difficult to keep moving, knowing what I’m seeing might not _really_ be what’s in front of me.

I count every step that brings me closer. Because they’re small, it takes twelve to be at an arm’s length away from him. He’s still only watching me with that steady gaze of his, and now his face is in full view - just as perfect as I remembered it to be. My heart pounds. My left hand still holds the drawing; my right twitches, like it wants to reach out for him and make sure he’s real. So I let it. I lift it up, gently let my fingertips brush his cheek to make sure he's real.

And he is. He's solid. Warm. Beautiful.

A strangled gasp draws in between my lips, the first breath I’ve taken in at least a minute. My fingers involuntarily curl into a shaky loose fist. My eyes sting and I’m still partially waiting to wake up, waiting for him to disappear in a cloud of smoke.

But he doesn’t. And finally, he moves, lifting his hand to wrap gently around my wrist - those same rough but gentle hands - and slides it to intertwine our fingers tenderly. He holds them there between us for a moment, still watching me, like he’s waiting for me to do something. But I’m frozen in complete disbelief. Subconsciously, I’m scrambling to make sense of this.

A long minute passes, and I guess he finally decides I’m not going to do anything, because his other hand lifts to cup my cheek. He’s so warm, so solid. I’m afraid my knees are going to buckle.

He starts to open his mouth, but before he can say anything, I’m throwing my arms around him, holding tighter than I ever had before. I don’t want to cry, but tears flood my eyes anyway, and I bury my face into his shoulder to hide them. He’s stiff for a minute. Eventually, though, I feel his arms find their way around my torso, too, and his fists curl around my shirt beneath the cloak.

My knees do finally buckle, then, and we both go down without ever letting each other go. I’m gasping, trying my hardest not to sob into his shoulder, but it’s hard. So hard. I’m so happy, but so confused at the same time.

“H-how?” I manage. My muscles are beginning to ache with how tightly I’m holding him, but I don’t care.

“You,” he answers simply. And his voice, oh god, his _voice_. I revel in it - so smooth and deep, and I swear it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.

The big black wing attached to his left shoulder blade catches my attention. Swallowing, I slowly lift my hand to it and brush my fingertips over the top of it, gently. It’s surprisingly soft, and even warmer than his skin.

“I...I don’t understand,” I whisper.

He pushes me back gently, hands on my shoulders. Our eyes lock, and an overwhelming yet familiar wave of warmth and adoration floods through me. Nothing about it is the way I remembered, for it's so much more potent and pierces me deeper, so much deeper. It's addictive, and I wonder how the hell I ever survived without it.

“You pulled me back, Eren,” he says.

“That doesn’t make any sense…”

His thumbs brush over my cheeks, catching my tears. “It shouldn’t,” he says. “It doesn’t to me, either. All I know is that you did, and that’s why I’m physically here.”

None of this makes sense, and the longer I look at him, the longer I feel him in my arms, feel his warmth and hear his voice, the more I’m beginning to doubt myself. To doubt my memories and whether or not he’d actually passed away in my arms that day. Or to doubt my own mental stability, thinking I’m still hallucinating and it’s a damn realistic one. Or that perhaps that I never woke up in his bed and found the drawing - which is now resting on the top of the wall beside me - and that I, too, passed away in my sleep and have found him in the afterlife.

“Don’t blank out,” he commands, pressing his palms closer to my cheeks. “Stay with me, Eren. I’m here. I know it’s hard to believe, but I am.”

_Blank out_. How does he know that? “How do you know that? Blank out…”

“You’ve never really been alone, Eren.” He keeps saying my name, talking to me like he’s missed the way it feels coming off his tongue. And I’ve missed the way it sounds in his voice. Nothing, nothing, nothing makes sense.

“You...you’ve been here?” I stammer, my fingers curling into fists on his shoulders.

He nods but offers no further explanation. I wanna shake it out of him, but at the same time I don’t want to know. If he’s been here, if I’ve ‘never really been alone’, he must have seen so much - the way I’ve been acting like a baby for the past few years, some of my meltdowns, if not all of them, yelling at Thomas, blanking out, drawing, _talking to him_.

But I suddenly don’t care about that. I just care about the fact that he’s here, that I’m seeing him, whether this is some fucked up illusion or I’m dead or what. This is all I’ve wanted since the moment his heart stopped, and I’ve finally gotten it.

“If..if this is real,” I begin, my voice finally a bit more even now that the tears have stopped, “then how?” Because I need an explanation for at least that.

“It is,” he tells me. Steady and certain. “Because you couldn’t let go, I couldn’t move on. Because your emotions were so strong, it gave me something to hold onto while I’ve watched you spiral downward...and eventually it pulled me back and the next thing I knew, I had a body again.” He glances down at himself; I follow his eyes and I suddenly realize what he’s wearing.

It should come as no surprise he’s dressed in the same thing he was when he died - the customary uniform for the Survey Corps with the Wings of Freedom pinned over his chest and on his shoulders as they always had been, the same button-up white shirt down to the cravat hanging from his collar. The clothing has been ripped in the back, though. A result of the wings, I think.

But his pants are incomplete. Where they’d normally be white, strapped up, and disappearing below boots, there’s nothing from his thighs down. They’re ripped, in fact, several inches or maybe a foot beneath his belt, and then there’s nothing but his pale legs. Like me, his calves and feet are tucked beneath him - a result of the fall. And just below the end of his shredded bottoms are scars. One on each thigh that stretch seemingly all the way around. Darker than the rest of his skin, from what I can see in the moonlight, and strangely puckered.

I remove a hand from his shoulder and shakily lower it to his left leg. My fingers quiver, but that doesn’t stop me from gently brushing the tips over the scars. The skin’s smooth but ridged.

The reality of it sets in, then. That this is real. He’s real. His death and everything I was doubting is true.

I lift my eyes back to his. He’s watching me carefully with his mouth pressed in a straight line, brows drawn together just a bit.

“This is crazy,” I mutter. As if that wasn't obvious. I want to tell him I missed him so much, but something tells me he knows. If he's been here, if he's seen me, he knows. And I don't know how I would be able to form the words. All I can do is cling to him like he's the very thing keeping my heart beating.

“I know,” he responds. Knows it's crazy, knows I missed him.

I pick up the drawing once again, sitting back just a bit and never letting go of him. “So then...you sent me this,” I say. “You knew I was in your room and you found this…you opened the window and gave it to me so I’d know to come up here...and you waited for me.” I have to say it all out loud to make my own sense of it. For some reason, verbalizing it makes it seem more real. Levi says nothing; he simply lets me work it all out in my head.

I glance back up, panic beginning to rise. “Are you gonna leave again?” I ask, trying to hide the worry but feeling it's a fruitless effort.

“I don't know.” His hands move from my face and he pulls the cape tighter around my shoulders just before a cool breeze passes through, like he knew it was coming. “I can, I suppose, if you wanted--”

“No!” I've said it too quickly, too eagerly. But it earns one of his classic snorts.

“I figured you'd say that.”

“But... _can_ you stay?”

“What do you mean?”

My hand flutters back down to one of the scars. His eyes follow, and we both remember what it means - that he did pass away, and that while he's here, something inside myself, at least, tells me this isn't just a second chance at life for him, or a second chance at love for either of us. He's here because of me, but that doesn't mean he's… _alive_.

“I’ll only disappear if you let go,” he explains. “If you make peace with my death.”

It's my turn to snort. I lean forward and press my face into his shoulder, breathe him in. His scent is...the same, but different. I can't explain it.

“If I haven't managed to get over it in the past several years, what the hell makes you think I'll be able to after you've appeared right in front of me like some kind of freaking angel?”

I feel Levi's fingers tangle themselves through my hair, proving some things about him haven’t changed. The other hand finds my side, rests on my hip. His head leans down against mine.

“I’m anything but an angel,” he scoffs.

“Then why do you have giant black wings?”

“No idea.”

I slide my arms around his waist and hold tight, never wanting to let him go. Normally by now he'd be telling me this is wrong, that we shouldn't be so close, but he's not, and I'm already having to remind myself the thing he was trying to protect us from back then has already happened.

“You need to get back,” he says after a while. “Before everyone else wakes up and finds you missing.”

“Hmph, I don't care if they do,” I mutter.

I can practically feel him roll his eyes. “Don't be stubborn and just go.”

“Come with me.”

“I never said I wasn't going to.”

For the first time in forever, I feel myself smile a bit. I lift my head to look at him again. He doesn't return the smile, but gives me that semi-annoyed, ‘you're a brat but you're my brat’ stare. And I am his brat.

He pulls himself out of my arms and stands up, taking one of my hands and pulling me to my feet as well. I gaze down at him, a part of me still in utter disbelief.

I don't let go of his hand as he tugs me in the direction of the way I came. I make sure to snatch the unfolded plane and stick it back under the cloak. We retrace my steps back to Wall Rose, and by the time we're there, the stars are beginning to fade away as the sky grows lighter toward the east.

My stomach flutters as headquarters comes back into view. Anticipation. Nerves. Confusion. A little excitement. I don’t know what this means, don’t know if it’s just some way the universe has decided to torture me more or what the outcome will be. All I can be certain of is how happy I am to be holding Levi’s hand again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had, like, almost zero inspiration lately so sorry if this is bad. I tried my best without that mojo, but idk. Dx But I hope you enjoyed it anyway.


	14. Rhythmic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Agh, I'm sorry for the wait! I'm shuffling a couple of things and deciding what to work on can be difficult, aha. Enjoy!

We split up when we're nearer the building, Levi insisting I go in through the front doors without offering any explanation other than telling me he’d meet me up in his room. He doesn’t allow me to ask any questions, either, before he’s pushing me in the direction of the door and disappearing from sight. I’m a little stunned at first, watching him vanish like that, but I waste no time getting back into the building and rushing up the stairs. It’s as if I’m afraid that if I don’t make it up there in time, he’ll vanish completely.

He doesn’t, of course, and when I push the door open he’s already there waiting for me, perched in the still open window. His hair looks windblown and his wings are extended just a bit. I quickly shut and lock the door behind me, my eyes never leaving his face as he steps soundlessly into the room.

Levi isn't returning my gaze. He's looking around the room, walking along his untouched work desk and dragging his fingers along its wooden surface, leaving trails through the dust collected there over the years. He's opening the door to the bathroom and peering inside; moving to the dresser and opening the drawers, finding everything to be the exact same as it was before his last expedition. Everything except the bed, that is, which is untidy from my having slept in it recently, although accidentally.

He pulls a pair of sleepwear bottoms from one of the drawers, shakes them out a bit, and moves toward the bed where he shakes off the torn jacket and shirt and steps out of what's left of the other pants he'd already been wearing. While he redresses, I can only stare at his wings. In the growing light of the room, they're an absolute wonder - blacker than the night sky the stars cling to, darker than his hair, and despite being tucked neatly to his back, they're quite large.

“Does everyone get wings when they die?” I find myself whispering.

Levi turns, still half naked. “Don't know,” he responds, equally as soft. “I'm the only dead person I've ever met.”

I swallow hard and take a step toward him. “So...you are still...d-dead.”

He nods, finally meeting my eyes. My breath hitches automatically, my teeth latch onto the inside of my lip. I inch toward him, wanting again to touch him and make sure he's real like all the contact on top of the wall wasn't enough.

As soon as I'm within reach, he's taking my hand and guiding me down onto the bed where we sit, both cross-legged and facing each other. I don't let go of his hand; he doesn't pull away, either.

“How long?” I finally ask to break the silence.

“How long for what?”

“How long can you stay?”

“I told you, Eren. As long as you're holding on, I won't disappear.”

An unimaginable amount of hope fills my chest. If there was any possibility of me ever letting go before, it's gone now. Gone with the wind. He's here, and that's all I've wanted for years. If I'm the one with the power to keep him here, that's what I'll do.

A thought occurs to me.

“Do you want to stay?”

His gaze is steady. Even. Though there's a moment of silence, he isn't seeming to think about it. Just taking it all in like I am.

“Yes,” he says finally. “You don't know how much I've been wishing I could touch you like this again.” He squeezes my hand. “Been wanting to just reach out and…” His hand lifts, his knuckles brush over my flushed cheek. I swallow again.

“You said you've been here,” I begin. He nods. “You've been around here...watching me?” Another nod. “So you've…you’ve seen everything.” Yet another nod. “You saw me when I was drawing.”

“Mhm.”

“And when I was talking to Thomas.”

“Yeah.”

“And when Mikasa told me she was pregnant...and when she had Rory...and when I've gone to see them.” More nods. “You've…seen...all my breakdowns…” My voice wavers. I feel his hand tighten.

“All of them.” I detect a hint of regret in his voice.

“Oh hell…” I grumble, burying my face in my free hand. “You watched me throw every one of those stupid planes off the wall and heard me talk out loud like you could hear me…” I mutter, embarrassment bubbling up.

“Idiot,” he mutters. “I _did_ hear you.”

“Oh god,” I continue. “You must think I'm a lunatic.”

“Not hardly,” he says, voice suddenly soft. I can't help but look back up because of it, peeking cowardly through my fingers. “You've been having a rough time, sure. But you're not a lunatic.”

I can't help but snort. “Rough time. Yeah, I guess you could say that…”

Levi says nothing. Our gazes hold steady with each other; eventually my hand falls from my face, the embarrassment fading away without a trace. We stay like this for a long few minutes. The sun continues to rise, chasing away the darkness little by little, and it reminds me of all the times I’d been up here before his death and the sky would become lighter and lighter, but he'd always send me out before I could see the sun come all the way up, always reminding me we couldn't be caught by anyone.

My eyes widen. “We have to go tell everyone,” I say, suddenly eager. I'm already halfway off the bed when he tugs me back.

“We can't.”

I frown at him. “Why not? They'll be happy to see you again.”

“They won't be able to.”

“Huh?”

“I'm still gone to them, Eren. Unlike you, they've made peace with my passing. They won't be able to see me. Or, rather...I’d fade into the background without making any impression. There's no point.”

My throat is suddenly thick again and I relax back into my spot. “Oh,” is all I can think to mumble, disappointed. “But...how do you know? How do you know any of this?”

“I just do.”

I'm frowning again, unable to understand what he means. Still, there's no way I can really question him on that, so I don't.

“You just…” I lift a hand, slowly extend it toward him. When he doesn't stop me, I press my palm to the center of his bare chest. At first I'm afraid I won't feel it, if he's still technically ‘gone’, but I do. It's there, steady and strong, just as I’d always known. “You don't feel gone. You feel perfectly alive to me.”

“It's _because_ of you.”

I can't help but roll my eyes. “Don't go getting all cheesy on me. It doesn't suit you.”

And he rolls those smoldering gray eyes right back. “No, idiot,” he mutters. Places one hand over mine on his chest and takes the other, cradles my own in it before pressing it against my own chest where I can feel my own heart, just like his. A strange kind of warmth radiates from my palms. And what's stranger - our hearts beat exactly in sync with each other. _Ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump_ , like two drums keeping time.

“Whoa,” I breathe.

“I’m literally here because of you, Eren.”

He's right. I don't know how I know, but I do, and he's right. That must be how he knows these things - _‘I just do.’_ My heart keeps his beating. My heart beats, so does his. My heart stops, so will his. I'm suddenly a bit dizzy…

“Lie down,” he instructs suddenly, his eyes a bit narrower. I can’t help but comply; this is all so overwhelming - his reappearance, how it’s because of me, how he’s alive because of me, but not really. On top of that, I’m exhausted. Still, I’m afraid to sleep. Afraid that I’ll wake up and he’ll be gone, that this will all have just been some ridiculous dream despite how, deep within my core, I know this is all completely real. That sick part of my mind can’t believe it and never will; it’s more potent than I’d like to admit.

I curl up on my left side without letting go of his hand; he watches me steadily, almost like he’s considering something, before he finally lies down next to me. Though my eyelids are drooping, my brain trying to pull me under, I force them to stay open, to be able to look at him for as long as I can.

“Go to sleep, Eren,” he mutters, clearly seeing right through me at what I’m trying to do.

I sigh, much too tired to argue. I take a small risk, finally letting my tired eyes shut and move toward him to rest my forehead against his chest. His skin is unbelievably warm and I wonder if he may have a fever until I remember…

It comes like a dagger being thrown and lodging itself right in my stomach, the memory of his death forcing its way forward - his last words; his tense, weak body; his heart thudding to a stop; his eyes losing their stoic luster; his skin losing color and his entire form going limp in my arms. I think he feels me tense, because he runs a hand through my hair and curls his fingers in it.

He’s here. He’s real. These are things I find I already have to constantly remind myself of. But I also know his death was real, the last several years since its occurrence are real. He says he wants to stay, says he won’t disappear if I don’t let him go - I’ve made it clear I can’t, I won’t - but does that really mean he can stay? Does he really belong here with me, even like this, with so much warmth and scars on his legs and giant wings sprouting out of his shoulder blades? It doesn’t make any sense. No one, out of the thousands of others I’d known who died in the war, have ever come back.

Or...have they?

It hurts to think about. Still, something doesn’t feel completely right about this. I need more reassurance.

I peel my eyes open one last time to find the room to be lighter; it’s sunrise.

“Levi?” I whisper.

“Mm?”

“Is...it okay...if we stay like this? Is it okay if you stay with me?”

He doesn’t answer right away, and I don’t expect him to. Instead he moves to pull the sheets around me, leaving the duvet at the end of the bed, though I don’t need them because he’s plenty warm next to me. I feel him draw in a deep breath, hear him blow it out through his nose, long and slow.

“I broke my promise to stay once...I don’t really want to do that again. It would be a shitty thing to do to you.”

I find my arm, stretch it around his waist. “Good.”

“Hmph. I told you to sleep.”

A bit of joy bubbles in my chest at the sound of his hard yet quiet authoritative tone, reminding me of the way he always used to be and reassuring me that the person I fell in love with still exists.

* * *

_Levi was tired. Exhausted, in fact, to the point where he felt he was about to pass out right where he was, shuffling his feet along the wooden floor toward his room. Even he, who only slept in three to four hour increments every twelve or so - provided he had the time to - would be on the verge of collapse after nearly three full days without rest. He didn't even bear the consciousness to wonder why his door was cracked a bit as he stumbled toward it, the soft orange light of a lit torch shining from the other side._

_Groggily, he edged it open with his shoulder, a hand faintly gripping the frame to hold himself up. A tall, lean figure with disheveled hair stood near the window looking out, holding one curtain aside._

_“Oi,” Levi muttered, simply to catch his attention._

_Eren turned, letting the shutter fall closed. As soon as he caught sight of the captain, he was striding quickly across the room to catch him before he collapsed altogether. Almost as soon as he'd let go of the doorframe, his body was tumbling forward, unable to even hold itself up any longer it was so drained of energy._

_“Levi,” the brunette murmured worriedly, instinctively holding him around the waist, Levi’s face pressed into the taller’s chest._

_“‘M so tired…” he grumbled. All of his weight pressed into Eren's frame at that point._

_Eren spared one hand to push the door shut and lock it before he scooped his superior up into his arms, careful to hold him delicately, practically cradling the man to his torso. Levi didn't protest in the least; his long lashes fluttered as he just barely clung to consciousness._

_The teen laid him across the bed, upright against the pillows. “You gotta get out of your clothes,” he said, tugging a bit on Levi's jacket. The captain sighed heavily, letting the other coax it off of him, along with his cravat and shirt. Once he'd pulled his boots off, Eren gave up on attempting to coax him into more suitable sleepwear due to Levi's grumpy mutters._

_“Eren,” he muttered as the teen was working on putting the dirty clothes in the hamper, knowing that if Levi woke up to find a mess, he'd get an earful._

_“Hmm?”_

_“C’mere…”_

_The younger turned to find Levi in the same position, half naked, an arm extended toward him. Butterflies awoke in Eren's stomach and he swallowed hard before crossing the room and crawling into the bed next to the man, who automatically curled into his side and made a pillow of his shoulder. Eren automatically curled his arms around him, pulling the covers up. He reached over to extinguish the torch and sunk down a bit._

_“Hey,” Levi muttered again._

_“What?”_

_“Stay.”_

_Eren couldn't help but grin a little. “Go to sleep.”_

_“Hmph.”_

_“You shouldn't have let yourself get so exhausted in the first place,” he chastised softly._

_“Shut up.”_

_“It's not healthy,” Eren continued. Levi only sighed. “Sleep.”_

_“Sshhh…”_

_Eren chuckled and moved to press his nose into Levi's messy hair, taking the slight risk to press a soft kiss into it. It only seemed to relax the raven more and eventually his breathing deepened, evened out, and Eren knew he'd finally fallen asleep._

_Eren himself stayed awake awhile longer, absently tracing circles and such into Levi's arm with the very tips of his fingers, all the while watching his face as he slept, so relaxed and lacking the hardened stoic mask, absent of the creases between his brows or on his forehead, of the slight downturn of the corners of his lips. Quiet. Peaceful. Handsome._

_He appeared so much more vulnerable in his sleep, a side not even Eren saw often. His breath was soft, even, and deep; he seemed even younger than he generally appeared, with his hair unruly and fanned out over his forehead, a contrast to its usual organized array._

_Eren couldn't help but smile a little at the wondrous, rare sight. He drank it in, let his eyes rove over Levi's face for a long while, committing it to memory and tucking it away for a rainy day. He didn't often catch Levi sleeping, especially not so soundly. If he was asleep, Eren generally was, too, or they weren't around each other. He'd woken up once or twice after sneaking up to Levi's room to find him having fallen asleep in his chair, right at his desk with his arms and legs crossed. Knowing it couldn't possibly be comfortable, he'd woken him up before taking a good look at his face. Other times, his features would be twisted up in discomfort as he was subconsciously trapped in a nightmare; more times than not, Eren would have to wake him to free him of it as much as he hated to do so. Levi got such little sleep already..._

_But that night was different, as the corporal was curled into his side so easily with such naked trust. It was humbling, to say the least; Eren felt honored to be the one he was as open as he was with. So often, he wore a hard, practiced mask of indifference and stoicism, hiding his pain and anger from anyone who wasn't looking and, more importantly, from anyone who was. And it was believable, and ridiculously so. Eren had seen the emotion he'd kept concealed away firsthand, and as much as he knew Levi detested breaking beyond that mask and showing what, in Levi's mind, was weakness, Eren was glad. If there was anything he truly understood, it was how holding back emotions until you broke was horrendously detrimental. Not even Levi, dubbed Humanity's Strongest by anyone who's heard his name, could handle so much._

_And Eren loved him for it. Loved that, when he needed to be, he was strong. Supportive. Caring, though showing it in subtle ways. And loved that he had his moments of weakness, too. Loved that, out of everyone Eren had come across in his life, Levi was the most undeniably human because of it - past his shit jokes and tea addiction (little attributes Eren couldn't deny to himself he liked, too)._

_The brunette fell asleep with these things on his mind, drifting slowly into unconsciousness, the tiniest of smiles gracing his lips. That night, he'd truly fallen for the corporal._

_~_

_Much to his surprise, he awoke before the raven as well. In his sleep, Levi had rolled away from him and was near the edge of the bed nearest the window on his left side, the sheets having ridden down past his waist to leave his torso completely bare. One arm was tucked between his head and the pillow, the other thrown carelessly over his stomach. Eren rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, ran a hand through his hair, and sat up with a sleepy sigh. He glanced back over at the other, could see his ribs expanding and contracting with his deep breathing, and smiled a little._

_And then all the thoughts from the previous night rushed forward, snapping him to full consciousness and causing his cheeks to heat, his heart to pick up the pace a bit, and his stomach to flutter uncontrollably. He forced a swallow, his mouth and throat dry likely from having breathed through his mouth sometime during the night._

_'Oh my god, I'm in love with him,' he thought._

_Flustered, he pushed his hand through his thick chocolate locks once more and pushed the covers off of his legs, careful not to move them away from the other, and stood up. He needed to get out of there before he did something he'd regret or be embarrassed about later. Thankfully, it was still just before sunrise, the sky a soft blue-gray in the crack between the curtains, so he'd have enough time to sneak out before someone woke up and he was caught. He strode toward the door quickly and soundlessly, placed his hand on the knob, twisted...and couldn't help sparing one last glance at the still-sleeping man. A smile tugged again at the corners of his lips and he finally pushed himself to leave the room. He surveyed the hall, listening hard to make sure no one would round the corner or open a door across the room and see him sneaking around - normal routine. He tiptoed down and around to the stairs where he practically flew down into the basement as quietly as he could. As soon as he was at his cell, his hands clasped onto the cold metal bars as he sucked in a deep breath, trying to straighten his thoughts out and make sense of what the hell he was going to do about this..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, I don't want to have to ask this, but I'm honestly that desperate D; But I guess I'm gonna take some requests? What do you guys want to see with this? I know how I'm going to end it, and I know where to start to get there, but between here and there, I'm lost as to what to have happen. So, with what you guys know, what would you guys like to see? I'll take any suggestions and do my best to mold one or a few of them into getting it to where I'm going with it.
> 
> But otherwise, thanks for reading, and as always let me know what you think? :) (I also have another fic published called Be My Salvation if you're interested in checking that out!) :*♥


	15. Damaged.

_Inky black locks floated around him in tendrils, the water surrounding him freezing cold, numbing his limbs and stealing his breath away. As soon as his mind made sense of where he was, he instinctively flailed, attempting to create momentum and find the surface of the water, if there was a surface. It was dark, the only think darker being the hair floating around his head, blinding him to what little light he might have been able to catch sight of._

_Panic rose up and he continued to flail, his arms reaching in every possible direction and his legs kicking tirelessly at the water, but as far as he could tell, he wasn’t moving._

_His fingers suddenly came into contact with something solid - soft, like flesh, but solid unlike anything else around him. He moved further, trying to grab onto whatever it was, only to find the slick texture of skin sliding against his own. A shoulder. He wanted to gasp or cry out, but it seemed the water had him in a chokehold and there was no way to breathe; he was going to drown, he was going to die…_

_The tendrils slowly faded outward and away to reveal a face - so pale it glowed in the darkness. Slowly, his eyes made out the figure of a woman wearing a torn dress, floating around her much like her jet black hair that matched his own; her eyes, too, were similar to his, and recognition slammed into him so hard he’d stopped flailing about. The woman smiled at him, her hand gently caressing his cheek before she gently floated away, before he could latch onto her and hold on for dear life…_

_* * *_

_Levi could feel eyes on him at breakfast, even as he made it a point to keep his focus on the wood of the table in front of him as he sat back in the chair, nonchalantly sipping his tea without so much as acknowledging any of the other recruits. It was only one pair, but it was a stubborn, relentless set that, for him especially, was difficult to ignore. But he wasn’t about to go down without a fight and meet those eyes, knowing he’d have to answer a bombardment of questions once he did._

_Hanji chattered away throughout the meal, discussing with Erwin strategies they’d use in the next expedition in ten days. Though he knew he should’ve been paying attention and taking mental notes, he didn’t retain a single word of it. No one questioned him._

_Later that morning, familiar footsteps approached him without invitation as he worked on strapping up his maneuver gear. He pretended not to notice, but Eren didn’t like to be ignored._

_“Something’s bugging you,” said the teen. It wasn’t a question. Eren could tell. And Levi hadn’t a clue how to respond. “Do you wanna talk about it?”_

_“There’s nothing to talk about,” he lied, thankful he’d practiced and perfected such an impassive, stoic facade that no one, not even Eren could completely decipher._

_But, as it seemed, Eren was getting better. Finished strapping up his gear and with nothing else to distract himself with, he was forced to glance up at his subordinate, whose brows were slightly furrowed, a slightly analytical look in his eyes. Levi raised his own brows, and the teen said nothing._

_At that moment, Erwin called everyone to begin the training session, cutting Eren off from anything else he might've said or done. Still, Levi could see that look in his eyes, and he immediately began conjuring up excuses for when he was showered in questions later; he knew Eren wasn't going to let it go._

_Levi managed to lose himself in the training, looking after his squad and barking orders. The simulation went fairly smoothly, but any veteran knew it would never be this easy in real life. The commander had them run through it several times. The entire thing was simply a test - would a simulation prior to the expedition itself help the strategy, help them reach their goal?_

_Four hours after it began, Erwin finally dismissed them. Levi hopped to the ground with about as much grace as a colt attempting to walk for the first time. He could practically feel the sweat seeping from his pores; he disgustedly ran a sleeve over his forehead to catch the perspiration. As he moved to follow the rest of the recruits from the training grounds, he was already planning a thorough shower._

_“Captain,” called an all-too familiar voice from his right. Biting back a sigh, he turned as Eren approached him. The kid’s hair stuck up, wind-blown, and caught the light of the sunset from behind, giving it a golden glow. Watching the slight swing of his hips and the confidence in his stride, the strand of hair stuck to his cheek from sweat had Levi unable to deny the slight hitch of his breath at the sight of the teen. He easily fell into step beside his superior. “How’d I do?” he asked._

_Levi narrowed his eyes a bit. It wasn't usually like Eren to ask for a critique of his performance, but Levi shrugged it off. “You could've been faster at times,” he said; there was no way he'd be giving Eren a perfect analysis. “But overall you weren't horrible.”_

_He could see the teen grin from the corner of his eye; his smile was just that bright. They entered the building together, Levi holding the door for the other and brushing off his thank you before following him inside._

_They parted ways without a word, Eren headed toward the recruits end of the building while Levi headed toward his own room in the opposite direction._

_He wasn't really one for cold showers, but something compelled him to set the water as cool as he could stand it as if it'd get rid of or at least distract him from the images in his mind. The images of her…_

_~_

_Eren made it a point to line up behind Levi at dinner, taking his time to fill his plate with food across the bar. The raven found himself nibbling absently on the inside of his lip, somehow just knowing what was coming next._

_“Are you ever gonna tell me what's bugging you?” he murmured so only they could hear._

_“I told you there's nothing bugging me, kid,” Levi muttered back. He was lying through his teeth, but it didn't matter; the last thing he wanted was to talk about it._

_“Shove it, Levi,” Eren muttered back; Levi’s stomach clenched in surprise and irritation. He shot a look at his subordinate, mustering his best glare. The only time Eren ever used his first name was when they were alone, when there was no risk of anyone overhearing, when things were more personal...more intimate._

_Eren was unfazed. “When you wanna talk, you know where to find me.” With that, he turned and strode away, toward his usual seat between Mikasa and Armin._

_Levi was stunned for a moment, standing at the counter in the middle of preparing his tea. A bag hung from his fingertips by the string, his heart thudding strangely fast. Quickly, once his eyes refocused on what his hands had stalled in doing, he forced a swallow and finished making the tea, still a bit flustered that Eren could seemingly see through him so well._

_~_

_Levi's footsteps were soundless against the cold wood of the floor; he wore nothing on his feet but a thick pair of socks, making it easier to stay silent. He reached the top of the staircase descending into the basement. The steps disappeared down into the darkness, leaving him blind a few feet ahead. But he'd been down there hundreds of times. It wouldn't be hard to feel his way into the darkness._

_But he wasn't sure if he should. It'd been a few nights since Eren had snuck up to his room, and a few weeks since Levi had been the one to do the sneaking. Sometimes Eren would stop for a few nights, like he was waiting for Levi to take the initiative for once instead. On the rare occasion he didn't take the hint and do so, Eren would start finding his way up to the captain's bedroom again, never saying a word about how Levi hadn't been in the basement for a while._

_The man sighed and pushed a hand through his hair, internally fighting with himself. If he went down there, he knew he'd have to explain himself. Eren was persistent and hard to say no to. Thus, Levi had to make the decision - talk about what's been bothering him since the moment his eyelids peeled open that morning, or spend another miserable, cold night without Eren asleep beside him._

_After considering his options for a few more moments, he finally swallowed his pride and made his way down the staircase. When he rounded the corner at the last step, he found a soft yellow glow shining from between the bars of Eren's cell, flickering faintly against the stone wall. His brows knitted together in confusion involuntarily - either Eren (idiotically) forgot to put out the torch before going to sleep or he was still awake. Levi found the latter to be true as he padded silently to the cell door. The boy was upright at the head of his bed, his knees up, arms around them with one hand locked around the other wrist, his head buried between his knees._

_The sight suddenly had all of Levi's own issues temporarily forgotten; he eased the door open, careful to be as soundless as possible, and wandered into the little room. Eren didn't so much as budge. The only proof he was even still alive was the expanding and contracting of his ribcage, he was simply that still. Levi briefly wondered if he'd fallen asleep in such a position…_

_And for the first time in his life, for a reason he couldn't really understand, Levi felt the uncontrollable need to take someone into his arms. He leaned down and did just that, sliding his hands around the teen's shoulders and pulling him gently to his chest. Eren gasped at the sudden, unexpected contact and his head snapped up, nearly knocking right into Levi's chin. Still, the man didn't let go; he eased himself down onto the bed as it sunk into Eren's head what was going on, and he melted into the embrace, his own arms finding their way around Levi's waist._

_“What's the matter?” whispered the raven after a while._

_“Nothing,” Eren mumbled back._

_“Bullshit.”_

_“Really. I'm just tired…”_

_“Then why weren't you asleep?”_

_“I don't...really know…”_

_Levi rolled his eyes. “Idiot,” he mumbled, an unintentional amount of affection coating his tone._

_Eren blew air from his nose in something of a laugh. “Did you come down here to call me names or to tell me what's been bugging you?”_

_“Neither.”_

_The next breath was a sigh. “Okay then.” Eren began pulling himself from the embrace - as much as he didn't want to. “Let's just get some sleep, I guess.”_

_Though a bit annoyed, Levi didn't protest as his subordinate stretched himself out and rolled over so his back was turned to Levi. It wasn't a gesture of irritation, but an invitation which Levi couldn't help but take. After putting out the torch, he laid down as well, pressing his back to Eren's and getting comfortable - it was a position they occasionally slept in when it was too hot or they simply didn't feel like cuddling up, a way they could still be touching and comfortable at the same time._

_Levi felt like the darkness was swallowing him whole. He stared directly in front of him but could see nothing, not even the stone wall only a few feet away from him. He could feel Eren's breathing against his back, steady but not deep enough to indicate he'd fallen asleep. It was almost like he was waiting, but refused to say anything. Like he was waiting for Levi to speak up first._

_The corporal figured he should try and get some sleep - the next expedition was only a couple weeks, and he always scolded his squad about getting enough sleep in the days leading up to the journey. But he wasn't tired, and after the previous night, he wanted to avoid sleep as to keep those images away._

_He finally shut his eyes._

_“It’s a dream,” he said finally. His voice reverberated off the walls, seemingly loud in the otherwise silent basement._

_“Hmm?” Eren asked._

_“A dream,” Levi repeated. “The thing that's bothering me. A dream...about my mother.”_

_The bed suddenly shifted beneath him as Eren sat up and turned around, squinting to find his captain. Levi merely turned his head; he could just barely see the teen leaning over him, but making out any kind of expression was hopeless. Cool fingers made contact with his arm and trailed down until they found his hand, resting against the mattress near his stomach. He let his hand be wrapped in the younger’s, shifting onto his back a bit only to end up halfway in Eren's lap._

_“I have dreams about my mom, too,” Eren whispered, his scarred hands holding tighter to Levi's. “About how I couldn't save her.”_

_Levi felt a twinge in his chest at those words. He sat up, adding another hand to the mess of fingers between them._

_“Mine was senseless,” he murmured. “She was floating in water...it had nothing to do with the way she…”_

_“Can you tell me how she did die?” Eren whispered. Levi felt him lean closer; he was drawn to the warmth and shut his eyes again, remembering. That little room. Feeling terribly hungry and cold as his mother laid in the bed, taking her last breaths._

_“She was sick,” he began. “She kept telling me she'd be okay, but I knew she was lying. I was alone for a few days after she finally succumbed to her illness, and then Kenny showed up. I told him she was dead. And I told him my name.”_

_“You witnessed her die then…”_

_Levi stayed silent. Eren already knew the answer without him having to say it. And he felt petty for feeling so forlorn about something that happened so long ago, especially speaking about it to someone who witness his mother get devoured right in front of him as he was dragged helplessly away._

_But Eren surprised him by asking him to recount it all, to tell him the story from the first moment he could remember. And as he did, the words spilling out without consent, Eren listened attentively the whole time, never interrupting or cutting him off despite how tired he seemed._

_“You don't dream of her often, do you?” Eren asked once he was finished, both of them lying down again, this time facing each other with their faces close, hands still intertwined between them._

_“No,” Levi said softly. “Almost never.”_

_And suddenly a pair of soft, damp lips were pressed to Levi's forehead. A gasp pulled in between his own lips; he suddenly felt so small, so vulnerable, somehow so loved. His stomach tightened and fluttered in the strangest of ways. As Eren's lips parted from his skin, that little reminder rang out in his head - ‘this is wrong, this is wrong’._

_Yet he suddenly didn't care. Because Eren was his world. Such a bold, stubborn brat who'd stumbled into his life kicking and screaming with a simple-minded passion to rid the world of titans with an ability only he possessed - that drive in and of itself on top of his shifter ability - meant everything to him. It was terrifying as it was grounding._

_“You know…” Levi began. He swallowed around the thickness of his throat, oblivious on how to handle these sudden, formidable emotions swelling up. “I don't really think you're such an idiot, right?”_

_He swore he could feel Eren's lips thin out into a smile; simply imagining it had his stomach flopping in awkward, unfamiliar ways, never mind actually seeing it…_

_“Yeah,” Eren responded softly, “I know.”_

* * *

His breath is deep, his hair soft between my fingers. His long, thick eyelashes rest gently against his golden brown cheeks, his lips parted just slightly. He sleeps like a child, and he hasn't moved all night. It's more peaceful than I've seen him sleep in a long, long time. Many nights, his face would be twisted up as a result of the pain of a nightmare. Some nights he wouldn't even sleep, but stare blankly at the nearest wall for hours without ever shutting his eyes.

I’m constantly conflicted between blaming myself for it and thinking he’s an idiot for letting something so trivial affect him in such an enormous way. From the moment I realized how much my death impacted him, I’ve felt guilty for letting myself get killed in such a shitty way. I’d been so dead set on protecting him out there that it became more important than protecting my own feeble life, and in the long run he ended up hurt anyway…

Watching him slide downhill over the years since my passing without the capability to do a damned thing about it is the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do. Fighting titans was nothing, losing the ones I cared about to their wrath and gluttony was bearable in comparison. Seeing the pain in his eyes, watching as his memories ate away at his mind as he lived nearly in solitude, as he spoke to the air thinking I couldn’t hear every agonized word he said cut me deeper than anything could.

I can feel his gentle warmth against the bare skin of my chest, feel the air exiting his lungs brush against my stomach, see the peace on his face. His eyes are still behind closed lids - no nightmares, nothing to rip him from his precious sleep. I don’t understand how my presence can calm him so much.

His heart beats steadily, but I can feel him waking up. It picks up a bit, his breathing deepening a bit before his eyes flick to the side momentarily, his lashes beginning to flutter open. I remain still, letting him wake up and make sense of his surroundings. His arm pulls away from my waist and he brings a hand to his face, a muffled, sleepy hum sounding from his throat.

Suddenly, he jerks back a bit, his head snapping up and his eyes opening fully to rove over me until they finally trail up to my face. As soon as recognition settles in, he relaxes, those iridescent blue-green eyes liquefying. I remove my hand from his hair; it’s matted to his forehead with sweat and I gently brush it back.

I’m about to say something I quickly forget when his hand lifts to my chin and he’s pulling me in, pressing his mouth right against mine. I feel myself freeze, but his heart flutters and quickly thaws me out and my lips are moving tenderly with his. When he pulls back, his cheeks are flushed and he quickly pushes himself up, disarraying the sheets further and rubbing his hands over his face.

“Hmph,” I mutter, reaching for him and yanking him back down. A gasp draws in between his lips and he blinks at me, flustered. I curl myself around him a bit and press my nose into his hair; while he smells faintly of sweat, he still holds the same sweet and somehow earthy scent I remember.

“Wha…?” he mumbles. My wings flutter involuntarily just as I let go of him and move swiftly from the bed, embarrassed by my own actions as he is his.

“You need to eat,” I say, folding my arms.

He starts to follow me, eyes still wide. “I’m okay,” he tells me.

“Please,” I mutter, rolling my eyes as a reflex. “You haven’t eaten since yesterday morning, and you don’t eat enough as it is.”

I watch the crease form between his thick brows. “You really have been here this whole time…”

“No shit.”

Though he’s taller than me - even taller than before my death, and irritatingly so - I have no trouble pushing him toward the door. As he would, he complains at me and tries pushing back, but it’s unsurprisingly useless. He huffs once he’s past the threshold.

“You’re gonna make me go down and eat in pajamas?”

I raise my brows. “That never stopped you before.”

And suddenly he’s grinning, and if the beating in my chest was my own, it would’ve stuttered and struggled to find a steady rhythm again because of it, guaranteed. “But you always scolded me about things like that.”

“Doesn’t much matter now,” I say casually. I give him another nudge in the center of his back with my fist. “Now go.”

His grin fades quickly, but the luster in his eyes has returned at least somewhat. He takes me by the hand and leads me down the stairs and into the mess hall where Hanji and Armin are picking at their lunches and talking about who-knows-what. As soon as we enter the room, Armin’s head perks up and he casts a cautious smile to Eren, something that’s become routine. What with the kid’s lashing or zoning out and unpredictable moods, everyone has made the cautiousness a habit around him.

“Afternoon, Eren,” the blond calls, causing Hanji to swivel their head to see him, too.

“Hey,” he answers quietly; I let my hand slip from his. They can’t see me, just as I’d anticipated.

He turns, shooting me a confused look, and I shake my head quickly, trying to remind him. He shrugs and continues toward the kitchen to throw together a messy sandwich.

“Have you no care for organization?” I scoff, eyeing his haphazard work.

“No,” he answers before sinking his teeth into the mess of bread, meat, and cheese.

“Typical.”

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” he asks after - thankfully - swallowing.

“I don’t eat.”

“Huh?”

I look him straight in the eye. “I’m dead.”

The sandwich nearly slips right through his fingers and he suddenly goes pale. His eyes drop to the floor. I immediately regret being so blunt.

“Oh. Yeah.”

I thrust my chin in the direction of the door. “You should join them.”

“Why?”

“Because you never talk to them anymore.”

“Yes I do,” he defends, but there’s no heart in it.

“Go,” I insist. “They’re worried about you.”

He has no response for that. It’s easy to see the conflict in his eyes before he finally picks up his plate. “Come with me,” he says.

I do, of course. I trail behind him as he walks quietly over to where Hanji and Armin are still chattering away, something about what they can use ocean water for. Eren takes a tentative seat beside Hanji; the two of them smile at his presence. I perch myself on the end of the table, merely watching.

“What’s up, Eren?” Armin asks. He’s doing a poor job at hiding his skepticism.

“Nothing,” he replies quietly. And it’s so typical of him - quipped responses that’ll help him avoid any in-depth conversation with anyone, even the people who were supposed to be his best friends. I’ve damaged this boy so badly…

“Nice of you to join us for once,” Hanji says. They grin and peek at him over their glasses.

Eren nods and quickly takes a bite of his sandwich. The following silence as he chews is awkward and god, there’s plenty of things any of them could say.

“Say something about the ocean water,” I tell him. He mistakenly glances up at me before his eyes shoot back down, earning a puzzled look from the blond.

“So...you were saying something about the salt…?” Eren asks awkwardly.

“Mhm!” Hanji enthusiastically supplies. “We were wondering if there was a way to extract the salt from the ocean water, though I haven’t had any luck with it so far. Armin and I were brainstorming other ways of doing so.”

“And?” Eren’s hesitant; this isn’t something he wants to talk about. Or he doesn’t want to talk at all. But I won’t let him out of this. He needs them.

“Well, we’re working on this theory of sunlight - if we can find a way to collect the water particles and place it in the sunlight, we’re hoping the weight of the salt will be too much and the water will separate from it.”

“The...water what will...do what now?” Eren asks, a deep, confused frown set in his features.

“It has to do with the water cycle,” Hanji says, adjusting their glasses in the way they do when they’re about to go on a science ramble. Without titans around to study, they’ve had to focus their wits on other things. I roll my eyes. “Water on the ground evaporates and creates vapor, or, as you would know it, steam, as the sun shines on it. Up in the atmosphere, those miniscule particles condense and create droplets that become too heavy for the heat of the sun to hold onto anymore and gravity pulls it back to earth and thus, creating rain or snow.”

Hanji’s attempt at explanation is futile; Eren’s completely lost on the concept. “What does that have to do with salt water?” he asks.

“You see...if the sun is shining on the samples I took, it should cause the water to evaporate and separate from the salt, just like the water cycle to create the weather.”

He blinks at them once. Twice. Sighs. “Okaaay then…”

I snort. “Science is clearly lost on you,” I say.

“Shut up,” he shoots right at me, sending a glare. And almost instantaneously he realizes his mistake and his teeth snap shut while his eyes begin to bug right out of his head. His heart picks up, and I can’t think of any way to help him.

“Eren, dear, who are you talking to?” Hanji’s asking, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Huh?” He finally turns his head in their direction. “Uhm...no one. I just…”

“Are you feeling okay?” Armin asks, genuinely concerned.

“Mm...no, I guess not…” It’s the only excuse he can think of, and it isn’t making him look any saner than they usually perceive him as.

“Did you get enough sleep?” Hanji asks.

I don’t give him time to answer. I grab the back of a chair and push it over. It clatters to the floor, startling all three of them. For a moment, I swear Armin looks right at me in shock, but it lasts only a second.

“What the hell?” Hanji’s asking. I leap from the table and quickly head toward the door. The plea in Eren’s eyes is what has me slowing down.

“I’ll be outside,” I tell him.

And only does it occur to me that I should’ve apologized when I’m jumping from the window in my room.

* * *

“They think I’ve completely lost it now.” His voice is hushed, regretful. His eyes are fixed on the grass, gently swaying in the evening breeze. His hands rest in his lap, the light is fading from his eyes. He’s starting to blank out. “Maybe I have.”

“I’m sorry,” I finally say. It doesn’t pull him back.

“I’m probably completely bonkers.” The sentence is punctuated by a dry laugh. He fades out a little more. I’m not going to let him go, not if I can help it this time. I’ve seen him this way for too many hours, far too many times before - a blank, unblinking stare, his only motion being the breath involuntarily pulling in and out of his lungs. I don’t know where his mind goes when it happens, but I’ll be damned if I don’t stop it now.

“Eren, listen to me.” I wrap a hand around his; he flinches and looks down at it before his eyes follow the path of my arm to my face. “What happened in there was my fault,” I tell him. “You’re not crazy. You’re just…”

“Just what?” he comes back a little, but what I have to say isn’t going to help keep him here.

“Never mind. You’re not crazy. Just like you were never a monster, you aren’t ‘completely bonkers’ or whatever the hell it is you just said.”

“And if they come out here and find me having a conversation with thin air?”

_Thin air_. That’s exactly what I am to everyone but him. It suddenly sinks in, and though I’ve known it all along, I know this can’t last. Because of what I am. Because of the state I’m in. Because of the state he’s in. It can’t…

“I don’t care!” he suddenly cries, leaning forward and burying his face in my chest. “I don’t give a damn if they find me here...talking to thin air...like I am a fucking lunatic. I...I need you here…”

His voice is so small, so weak. Something wet drips onto my chest and I encircle my arms around him. It’s all I can do to keep my own composure. He feels so fragile, is so wounded. I catch sight of the crescent shaped scars on one of his hands. No, he isn’t crazy.

He’s broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took so long to get this written. Dx Let me know what you think!♥


	16. Embraces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shitty chapter title. (Still in Levi's perspective.)

“When's the last time you visited Mikasa?” I ask him a few days later. We're walking slowly along the top of Wall Rose headed toward the east. His fingers are wrapped securely through mine; they're tight, like he's afraid to let go of me. It's early afternoon, the sun hanging over in the cloudless sky, beaming right down on us. My feathers are growing hot and I find myself tucking my wings closer and closer to my back to keep them out of the sun as much as possible.

“I don't know…” Eren mumbles, his eyes glued to the top of the wall in front of us as we stroll by. “A couple months, maybe? I'm surprised you have to ask…”

I don't, really. I know it's been a while since he took the initiative to make the journey to her house. I ignore the remark.

“You should go see her,” I suggest. “She probably misses you.”

“Hmph. If she missed me, why can't she come visit _me_?”

 _Such a brat_. “She's busy, idiot. She has a kid and a whole other life now. It's not like she can just pack up and hike over to HQ whenever she wants.”

I feel Eren flinch and immediately regret what I've said. I know things like that tend to strike a nerve with him, what with, in his mind's eye, his lack of purpose within anything anymore.

“I know,” he finally says in a quiet voice.

I stop and let my hand fall from his. He turns, brows furrowing. “What is it?”

“Let's go,” I say. “You need to see her, and we're not very far from her place anyway.”

His face relaxes. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why...do I need to see her?”

“What kind of question is that?” I cross my arms, shift my weight to my left foot.

“It's just...if she's so busy, wouldn't I just be getting in the way?”

‘ _He's broken._ ’ His voice is so small and timid, so weary; he suddenly appears a decade younger than he is, yet bearing smoldering pain in his eyes. Before I know what I'm doing, I stride toward him and pull him against me, hooking my arms around his shoulders and tangling my fingers through the soft hair where his scalp meets his neck.

“You're so naïve,” I mutter in his ear, feeling his arms wrap themselves around me, too. “She's your family, Eren. You're crazy if you think you'd be in her way.”

I feel him relax into me. “What if I don't want to go?” he asks. “What's wrong with just staying here with you like this?”

“Humor me. Don't let me jeopardize your relationship with her.”

His fingers gently pull through a few of my feathers, hesitating. I sigh and move back, though keeping my arms around him, and stare him straight in the eye. “Just go. For a while. Stop acting like a brat.”

Somehow that pulls a small smile from his lips, but only minutely does it touch his eyes. Better, but far from what I want to see.

“Okay,” he says. “As long as you go with me.”

I quirk a brow. “I thought you didn't want me around in the presence of other people.”

“This time I don't care. As long as you don't say anything.”

I roll my eyes. “Whatever it takes to get you to go.”

So we set off hand in hand again toward Mikasa's place. She, Jean, and Rory live in a small, one-story house in the suburbs of Trost. It's painted a simple white with light blue trim, complete with a brick chimney and a grassy front yard, a sapling growing near the corner. Eren and I saunter quietly down the stone path in its direction, our hands having ceased contact so it doesn't appear as if he's clutching at nothing. Still, I keep a tender hand on his arm, having noted contact between us keeps him calmer somehow.

A lip trapped between his teeth, Eren knocks on the door and steps back, fidgeting as his eyes find the ground again. It only takes a second before the door is being pulled open to reveal the dark-haired woman standing on the other side, appropriately holding an equally as dark-haired toddler on her hip. She smiles as soon as she sees him.

“Eren!” she says, taking a step out and throwing an arm around him before he can protest.

“H-hey, Mikasa,” he mumbles, patting her back in such a way they don't smush the toddler.

“Come in,” she says, pulling him along by the wrist. I make sure to step soundlessly in before the door swings shut again.

“It's been so long,” breathes the woman, her eyes sparkling as she looks him over.

“Yeah,” Eren says, scratching the back of his neck. “I hope you weren't busy or anything.”

“Not really.” She angles the child toward him. “Look, Rory. Remember Eren?”

The brown-eyed child gazes up at him, his mouth hanging open a bit in curiosity before he's suddenly smiling to reveal little square baby teeth, his dimpled hands reaching out for Eren.

“Do you want to hold him?” Mikasa asks.

Before Eren can automatically shoot her down, I gently nudge him between the shoulder blades with two fingers, urging him to.

“Uhm...sure,” he says.

After being passed the kid and a little adjusting, he's positioned comfortably on Eren's hip, and I swear if my heart could stutter it would - the sight of him with a child is breathtaking, especially with the small smile manifesting because of it. And I want that for him. So dearly, I want him to be happy in such a way.

Rory's hand comes up to touch his face, his own little smile never so much as faltering a bit with little dimples in his chubby cheeks.

“You can sit,” Mikasa says, moving to take a seat on the couch herself. Eren follows her lead and maneuvers Rory into his lap without taking his eyes off of him.

“So where's Jean?”

“Running some errands. He should be back soon, I think.” She leans down and picks up one of the many toys strewn about the floor and offers it to her son. He ignores her and continues patting away at Eren's face, reaching up to touch his hair, tugging curiously at the collar of his shirt.

Eren and Mikasa fall into a fairly easy conversation with, to no one's surprise, Mikasa doing the majority of the talking. Eventually, Eren sets Rory back on the floor and watches his little feet patter away across the shiny wood floor only to return seconds later with a toy to show him, saying the words he knew associated with each item and doing this several times, each time retrieving a different plaything. He's all dimples and smiles, his hair beginning to stick up the more he plays like it's attracted by some sort of static from the ceiling. After a while of this, he selects only one of the toys from the rows Eren organized on the coffee table and climbs on the couch between them, quietly playing with it as they speak.

Jean does eventually make his appearance, forcing me away from my hovering near the doorway, the space I'd always selected when Eren visited. With a physical form, though, I'm forced to move as to prevent the door from, to them unexplainably, stopping. I'm more attentive with my surroundings as well, as to not needlessly knock something over. As I'm moving out of the doorway, Eren mistakenly glances up at me, and I try a small smile with the corner of my mouth. It feels more like a grimace; he quickly looks away.

Jean, after putting groceries and such away in the kitchen, joins in the conversation. All of the pointless angsty tension I remember from their adolescence has vanished and it's nice to see how much they've grown up since then.

“I'm a little jealous of you guys,” Eren says quietly somewhere in the midst of their conversation. His focus is on Rory, who'd fallen asleep in his lap a while ago. “Settling down like this after all the hell from back then. I wish…I could…” He lets out a breathy laugh. “Never mind.”

Mikasa unexpectedly smacks him across the shoulder; his head snaps up, frowning. “You _can_ ,” she says. “Get the hell away from that castle. Make a different life for yourself.”

And just like that, he shuts down again. He isn't blanking out, but that little bit of happiness he caught from Rory swirls right down the drain. From my seat on the floor, I move closer and place a light hand on his leg. He jerks slightly, a bit of air drawing quickly in through his nose.

Mikasa's unfazed by this, and she follows up with a question Eren clearly wasn't anticipating.

“Have you been going to your therapy sessions?”

His gaze travels up to her face. I hear him swallow, suddenly uneasy. He's looking for a way to avoid the question and change the subject. I squeeze his knee, urging him to answer. I won't let him out of this, even if he's the only one who notices me in the room.

“No,” he mumbles. A frown makes itself known on Mikasa's face. Just as she's opening her mouth to ask why, he shakes his head. “I don't know, Mikasa. I don't know why. I just haven't. It's pointless. Alright? Thomas can't fix my head.”

Mikasa starts on the same speech he's heard from her a hundred times, about how it can help him and if he'd at least put effort into it, he might be able to get better someday. It's all gibberish to Eren now, and he simply sits there looking at the ground like a child being scolded by an adult until she's done.

We leave not long after that, and it's just starting to rain when we step outside the house. Mikasa calls after, asking if he wants to borrow an umbrella, but he declines and waves one last farewell.

Neither of us says a word for a long while as we walk. He doesn't hold my hand, and I don't reach for his. He stays a few strides ahead of me. The rain begins to pick up; fortunately it isn't very cold, or I’d be worried he'll get sick. (I am, anyway.) I hear him sniff a few times, but whether or not he's crying I can't tell.

“You need to go to therapy,” I finally say.

As expected, he doesn't respond. We continue walking; while I contemplate ways to convince him to go. Several threats come to mind, but I know they'd probably only make things worse. An ultimatum might work, but I'd have to think of a plausible one. But there's nothing else I can say to get him to go without telling him the same shit he's heard from other people thousands of times…

It's difficult to tell if he ever sheds a tear due to all the moisture hailing down from the sky. Somehow I don't think he does, but he's gotten exceptionally talented at hiding his feelings.

_Must have been something he learned from me._

I sigh inwardly. On we walk.

“She's right, Eren,” I say after we've eaten up several more miles.

He stops, and when he turns around I see his face to be completely neutral. No tears. No happiness. Just calm.

“You can make a different life for yourself,” I continue. “And you deserve it.”

He reaches for me, simply taking my hand. We continue walking but he veers us from the path we'd been on to head back to headquarters.

“Maybe I can,” he says. “But I...I don't want to.”

“Why?”

His hand twitches; we seek mild shelter under the large canopy of an ash tree. “Because I'm okay being here.” We sink to the wet grass, crossing our legs but never letting go of one another. “I’m...okay just staying like this.”

It's so easy to see what he means, and so easy to want it, too. I feel myself melting into those bright eyes of his, letting them devour me until any rational thought has been swallowed up and I can't think about anything other than this, other than him, other than wanting to stay with him as long as I possibly can.

Our lips crash together and I'm maneuvering into his lap without breaking contact. His hands, rough and almost demanding, seize my waist as my own fingers tangle themselves through his damp hair. Heat surges through me - down to my fingertips, my toes, the tips of every one of my feathers. I capture every whimper, every moan eliciting from his throat with my lips, drinking him and moving closer until I feel his clothed chest against my bare one, straddling his hips with my knees, until we can't possibly get any closer to each other. I slip my tongue past his lips, testing, and he allows me in to taste him, to feel him flick his own against mine, to nibble and suck.

His heart is pounding. His hands are unyielding on my back, scratching gently where my wings meet my shoulder blades. They come up and shield us from the wind and rain. And eventually he has to come up for air, panting for it whereas I'm fine; I no longer feel that need for oxygen after kissing him like that, but I have no mind to think about why that might be strange.

“Stay with me,” he breathes, his forehead coming together with mine.

And how can I deny him? Even with that nagging instinct in the back of my mind telling me that this can't work, I selfishly want to stay by his side. If it means he'll be happier, if it means sparing him from as much pain and guilt and _loneliness_ as I can and from having to watch it myself, how can I possibly say no? Even if we said it before, even if I told him I'd be here as long as he was holding on, I have to say it again. Just to ease his mind, because he's afraid of being left alone again. As virtually impossible as I know it is, I stay.

And that’s when I realize that between then and now, nothing ever really changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna try and have another chapter up pretty quickly to make up for this short, kinda boring one. ._. But thanks for reading, loves! ♥


	17. Irresolute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am trash because I promised to have this up quickly and I did not keep that promise. I'm sorry guys. Dx

It took almost a month, but Levi convinced me to go back to therapy. I can barely remember what he said to talk me into it, but one minute we were mildly arguing and the next, I was standing in front of Thomas’s office door.

“I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever see you again,” the wrinkled man said with a disturbingly elated smile.

The session went as normal, aside from my showing him any new drawings. There weren't any; since Levi reappeared, I haven't so much as thought about my sketchbook. Thomas brushed it off, though, coming to his own conclusion that since I'd stopped showing up for over a month, I'd just lost interest in the ‘art’, too. And what could I do but let him believe it? It wasn't entirely too far from the truth, anyway…

“There's something different about you, Eren,” the old man says to me several sessions after my return, a few weeks later. It's the second time I've let Levi stay in the room with me; he stands quietly near the door with his arms crossed. It takes a great deal of focus not to glance up at him every once in a while, and there isn't even a clock on the wall I can make an excuse of taking a peek at.

“What do you mean?” I ask blandly.

“You just seem...livelier, somehow. A bit happier. That's good.” His eyes crinkle as he smiles. Crow's feet. I offer nothing more than a shrug. “Is there a particular reason why?”

I cross my arms and look down at the mahogany surface of his desk. I can't lie and say his talks help, or that the disgusting tea mixture is doing the trick because he'll see right through me. I can only settle for a simple word. “No.”

“Have you started drawing again?” he asks.

“...No.”

“Can I ask why?”

I grit my teeth to keep from rolling my eyes. “Because I don't want to anymore.” And that isn't entirely true, either. Drawing was actually a nice way to kill my already meaningless time before I found Levi on the wall. But with him around again, I want to do nothing but spend that time with him instead.

“Oh? Why not? I thought you enjoyed it.”

“I did, I just...I ran out of things to draw.”

“Lack of inspiration, huh?” Thomas sits back, nodding and rubbing his palms together. “That's okay. It happens to all of us. I'd like to ask you to try again, though. Maybe you can come up with a reason you've been doing better so we can strengthen it and keep up with it.”

 _Levi's already pretty damn strong_ , I think.

“Sure.”

Another wrinkled smile, a few more questions, and he dismisses me. Levi quietly follows me from the office and only when we're out of the building do I search for his hand. As soon as they're clasped together, he lifts mine and presses my knuckles to his warm lips; I send him a small smile.

Smiling has been easier lately. It still feels awkward at times, still feels forced, and I can only ever send them Levi's way. It just proves wrong the theory I had awhile back - if Levi were back in my life, everything would be fine again; I could smile and laugh and speak to people normally, could _function_ normally. But I suppose that theory was proven wrong, because my head is still sick, still delusional and on the verge of insanity and overflowing with painful memories on one side, numb on the other. But this is better than things have been in _years_.

“I'm proud of you,” he tells me once we're far enough away from the buildings for anyone to be within earshot.

“For what?”

“Talking to him. You tell him more now.”

“I...do?”

Levi nods. We keep away from any paths, avoiding where others might be as much as possible. “You used to sit there and stare at him or the floor the entire session like the damn bull you are.”

I puff my cheeks a little and frown, about to deny it. When he perks a brow at me, though, I realize what he means and relax. He's always seemed to know me better than I do myself.

“You're such a little shit,” he mutters, squeezing my hand.

“Hey,” I say defensively.

The flicker of a grin crosses his features; he quickly glances around and, finding us to be mostly shielded by some trees with no one else around, tackles me to the ground and pins my arms above my head, straddling my waist. Before I know it, I'm grinning up at him and trying to fight back, but he's so much stronger, so _inhumanly_ strong, and I haven't worked out in months so I lose any chance of besting him.

“Jerk,” I mutter.

“If you'd work out more, you'd at least have a fighting chance,” he remarks, clearly all too pleased with himself.

“Shut up,” I mutter, trying to squirm from his grasp. He relaxes his grip and lowers his head. His smug expression suddenly softens, his eyes staring right into mine like he can see into my soul. My squirming stops and I force a swallow, suddenly a bit nervous. He leans in so close that I can feel his hair brushing my forehead.

“L-Levi?”

He doesn't seem to hear me; it's almost like he's lost in some daydream and it freaks me out. It's so unlike him…

“Hey…” I manage to pull an arm free and gently touch his cheek. “What's wrong?”

He snaps back, jerking up a little and sharply drawing in air through his nose. “Nothing.”

We sit up. I move my arms around him; his wings shudder a bit as his fingers slide down my arms, eyes shifted away from mine.

“Something's wrong,” I say.

“No. Not really.”

“Don't lie to me.”

“Hmph. Like you're one to talk.”

“Tell me,” I insist, ignoring that.

He sighs lightly. “I'm just thinking too much.”

“About?”

“The fact that I'm dead.” _He's always too blunt_. My flinch has him brushing a thumb along my jaw. “There's part of me that didn't fully come back, Eren,” he murmurs. My stomach lurches. _What_? “I don't know what it is. And I keep having these flashes of memories of when I died. I can still feel that titan making lunch out of my legs...and being thrown against that tree. And I still see you and feel you holding me as my heart stopped.”

I want to scream at him to stop. This is so unlike him, and though I know it's because he's different after that - of course he is - it still scares me. It's like he's suddenly fading away…

“It's just that every time it comes screaming back, so does the truth. That I'm not really here. I'm only here to you...because of you... _for_ you. I'm not alive. I have a heartbeat, but it isn’t mine. I don't need to sleep. I don't eat. There's no flow. It's just this.”

I swallow again, forcibly. I don't want to know the answer - I don't even want to ask, but I have to.

“Do you...not want to be here anymore?”

He finally meets my eyes. He doesn't answer right away, but I don't really expect him to. His hands slide up to my head, his fingers gently tangling themselves in my hair to pull me closer. Our foreheads touch, our noses. I have to shut my eyes.

“No. I do.”

“B-but?”

Levi answers with a harsh kiss that makes me soon forget what I'd asked.

* * *

We - or I - catch Armin as we're coming up to headquarters. Levi discreetly removes his hand from mine and fades into the shadows.

“Hey, Eren,” Armin says, voice a bit edgy with suspicion.

“Hey,” I reply.

“Where have you been?”

“Therapy.”

“Oh.” He smiles. “That's good. Did Mikasa finally talk you into going back?”

I laugh a little. “Yeah, guess she did.” I'm desperate to turn the subject away from me. “So...where are you off to?”

“Just to pick up a few things for an experiment,” he replies casually.

“Oh...okay. Well, have fun,” I say with a small wave before turning to head back toward the door.

“Sure,” he says. As I place a hand on the knob I can hear his footsteps crunching away when they suddenly stop and draw nearer again, a bit slower. “Hey, Eren?”

The door is halfway open. I could escape inside and pretend like I didn't hear him, but something has me turning around. “What's up?”

Armin looks conflicted, his shiny blue eyes just a bit narrower than normal. It's very nearly that analytical look he wears when trying to figure something out. And this time it's trained right at me.

“I'm just wondering...are you okay?”

“What do you mean?” I ask. I don't know why I'm so nervous. If he knew about Levi, he'd have said something, I know he would have. Aside from that, there's no way he could know, and even if he did, why would it make me nervous?

_You're over thinking this…_

“You've been disappearing quite a lot recently. I'm worried.”

What explanation am I supposed to give that? Because the very reason is Levi, standing near a tree a dozen yards away with his arms crossed, peering at us from the shade. Out of reach. Out of perception in Armin's case. And I’m not good at lying, especially to my childhood friend.

“Yeah, I'm okay,” I say, hoping to Maria he doesn't question why.

He nods. “Okay…I believe you. I just don't want you to go getting yourself hurt or something. I know you haven't been the most stable since…” He trails off, knowing I know what he's getting at.

I clench my jaw. “I'm fine,” I say, trying not to automatically avert my eyes down to the ground - something I apparently tend to do when things get uncomfortable for me, so says Levi. Of course. “Thanks...for worrying, though.” I manage a small smile.

Armin smiles back and I envy how easy it seems for him. “It's nothing. Hey...do you want to join me?”

“Uhm, no thanks,” I say automatically. “I have a few things...I wanna get done.” _Horrible liar._

But Armin doesn't question my terrible excuse. _Gee, Eren, what could you possibly have to do? You don't do anything anymore, anyway!_ He gives a nod and a soft farewell before turning to walk off again.

“You should've gone with him.” Levi's at my side again, his wings extended just slightly and his arms uncrossed.

“Why?”

“He misses you, idiot. And you miss him. If you keep distancing yourself so much, you're going to lose him. You'll lose all of them.”

I force a swallow and slip through the door. I don't bother to hold it for him, but he manages to get in before it swings shut.

He's right. It actually scares me how right he is. I don't want to think about what it means, though.

“Don't deny it, Eren,” he says. The words are harsh - quite the opposite of his voice.

I don't know what to say, so I don't respond. Levi isn't just saying these things to be a pain in the ass, and as a result, I’m conflicted. Conflicted between humoring him - admitting he's right and trying to reverse the damage I'm causing to relationships with people who are still alive - and the constant storm that is my own mind, telling me it's okay to stay with him because it's what makes me happiest, to seclude myself from people because it's exhausting to dance around the truth to keep him a secret and pretend I'm fine.

I'm tense for the rest of the day. After watching me pace the empty hallway from the doorway of his room for ten minutes, Levi finally managed to coax me back outside and to the top of Wall Rose with my sketchbook. He sits silently to my right as I draw, sketching out random things across the page that have no meaning; it’s nothing worthy of showing Thomas.

Eventually the pencil slips from my grasp and rolls down onto my legs. I see Levi turn his head to give me a quizzical look out of the corner of my eye.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur without returning the gaze.

“For?”

I drag my nail down the spiral holding the book together. “Being such a damn nuisance to you.”

“What the hell makes you think you’re a nuisance?”

An unexpected sarcastic laugh sounds from my throat. “What makes you think I’m _not_?”

He’s frowning, but he doesn’t respond.

“You had to drag me all the way up here just to calm me down. You have to tell me things because I’m too lost in my own brain to realize them, or I just deny them. Hell, you’re _here_ because I was too selfish and weak to let go and now you’re suffering, too.” I have to swallow back my emotions; I’ll be damned if I cry in front of him again. “That was never what I wanted.”

When he moves closer and faces me, I finally look up. His eyes are narrow, brows pulled together to create a crease in his pale skin between them, his lips pressed together.

“And where’d you get the idea that I’m suffering?” he asks quietly.

“Isn’t it obvious?” I mutter, trying to blink back my stupid tears of weakness. “Because of me.”

And again he says nothing. I sigh and toss my sketchbook away, the pencil with it, and pull my knees up. A dark blanket of clouds is approaching from the southeast, a cool breeze pulling them in. It’s going to rain soon; if we don’t move, we’ll be soaked. But I don’t care. Let it soak me, let it give me a cold, let it drown me. I don’t care anymore…

“I think you’ve got it backwards,” Levi’s suddenly saying. As I lift my head again to question him, his forehead comes down against my shoulder and I can’t see his face. “I think _you_ are suffering because of _me_.”

“I-I’m not…”

“Tch. Right. Because that depression you fell in after I died and haven’t gotten out of is just coincidence.”

“I’m not depressed, Levi. I’m _happy_ you’re here. Which is really fucked up.”

There’s a long pause, and then, “So is this how it’s gonna be, then? Both of us blaming ourselves for the pain of the other? Thinking that every damn little thing we feel is ‘fucked up’?”

It’s my turn to not have the words to respond with and the conversation ends there.

“You should spend some time with Armin,” Levi tells me after a while of watching the dark clouds draw nearer and nearer.

“Huh?”

“When’s the last time you spent some decent time with that kid?”

“I don’t know. You sound like a parent.”

He rolls his eyes. “Shut up, Jaeger. I’m serious. Stop wasting all your time on me.”

“That again?” I groan.

“And you sound like a bratty child,” he scolds.

“Shut up, Ackerman.”

He pinches my thigh and I hiss in pain, swatting his hand away. “What was that for?!”

He ignores that. “Spend a day with Armin.”

“Or what?”

“Do I seriously have to threaten you to get you to spend time with your best friend?”

I look away from him. “We...can hardly be considered best friends anymore…”

Levi taps my cheek to get me to look at him again. His brows are lifted, waiting for me to get it. And I do.

* * *

So I spend a day with Armin a few days later. At breakfast one morning I ask what his plans are, and he tells me he’s planning to head into town to pick up food supplies and I offer to join him. He’s clearly surprised by this, but he accepts my offer, so once we’ve cleaned everything up and gotten ready, we head out. Levi is nowhere in sight, but I know he’s around. Watching. I can feel his eyes on us, and strangely it’s more comforting than creepy.

The day is clear, a significant contrast to the past few rainy days we’ve had and it puts me in a decent mood as Armin and I saunter toward the market. We talk quite a lot and, to my own surprise, I’m actually fairly engaged in conversation, though I keep expecting him to ask why I’m so suddenly interested in joining him. Fortunately, he says nothing of the sort and I’m hoping it’s simply because he doesn’t want to push me away again - aside from Levi, Armin knows best about how fragile I’ve been (though not how much I resent myself for it).

It takes a few hours to pick up everything he’s got written down to stock the kitchen with and cart them back to HQ to put it all away. Once done, I decide to humor Levi a little more by joining Armin in his and Hanji’s office/creepy science experiment room. I don’t pay much attention to what they’re talking about, even as they try and dumb it down to easier terms so I can understand it. After another couple of hours of this (and still being absolutely clueless as to what they were talking about) I make an excuse and sneak out.

Levi doesn’t reappear right away, and having been away from him so long has me feeling fidgety and tense. The first place I check is his room, but he’s not there. Glad Erwin has been out for several days working with the Garrison Regiment and Hanji and Armin seemed too into their work to be stopping any time soon to catch me wandering around like a lunatic, I go on a hunt for him. All the rooms on the top floor, including the offices, the meeting rooms, dining hall, and kitchen are all void of anyone, and that leaves the basement.

Strangely enough, he’s there, behind the bars of my cell, sitting cross-legged in the center of my bed with his eyes closed and his wings wrapped around himself. Swallowing, I approach the door and my mouth is just beginning to form his name when his eyes slide open.

“You okay?” I whisper.

He hums and beckons me over; I sink down onto the edge of the mattress next to him.

“How was your day?” he asks.

“Please,” I mutter. “Like you weren’t watching.”

“Just tell me.”

“It was...okay. Better than I thought it’d be.” I turn to face him, sighing and leaning my head against his shoulder. I feel his warm, naked arms slide around me, a hand tangling itself in my hair the way he always does. “But talking to people is so exhausting…”

Levi merely hums again and suddenly he’s gently pulling me down until we’re laying across the entire bed, his wings spread out so wide the tips touch the walls as he lays on his back.

“Is...that comfortable?” I murmur, staring across the black mass of black feathers.

“It’s fine,” he mumbles, easing my head down onto his shoulder and taking one of my hands in his. My heart speeds up a little and I find the inside of my lip to be trapped between my teeth.

“Are you okay?” I ask him. No response. “Levi?”

“Mhm.”

His thumb begins tenderly rubbing over the skin of my hand; it takes me a minute to realize he’s tracing over my scars, gazing down at them with a look of pain plastered into his features. I have to force myself not to pull away from his touch. I never like looking at those scars or acknowledging they’re there; it only brings forth the painful memories of where they came from. But with his skin lightly brushing over mine where they exist, it feels like they’re burning and I can’t ignore it.

All the memories rush blindingly fast to center stage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idek about this chapter. I'm sorry...


	18. Titan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is only half-edited because I'm just not feeling it right now and it's been a month since I updated so I really just wanted to get this up. I'm so sorry for the wait, guys; hopefully it doesn't take this long next time, but life is kicking my ass right now.
> 
> (And yes, this entire chapter is a flashback.)

_“Whenever you’re ready, then,” Hanji called from several meters away._

_Eren gave them a nod, but his eyes were trained fifty meters up. He couldn't specifically see the short man at the top of the wall, but felt he could somehow feel Levi’s eyes on him as well._

_Levi watched impassively as Eren, fifty meters down below, sunk his teeth into the flesh of his hand and a nearly blinding green light exploded around him, causing the corporal to have to squint. His hands stiffened around the handles of his blades, ready to jump into action if need be. Erwin's orders were to give Eren at least ninety seconds in titan form - if he changed - before anyone was to pursue freeing him from the beast, and that was only if his behavior was abnormal. It wasn't like Levi to disobey orders, or even plan to, but with it being Eren down there in the given situation, he was prepared to face the consequences if it came to that._

_Despite its size, Eren's titan was difficult to see past the billowing steam. Levi's knees bent, his eyes never straying from the large gray cloud, prepared to jump as it gradually thinned out._

_“Hold your positions!” boomed Erwin's voice from Levi's left._

_Down below, Hanji and their squad had jumped away from the steam and were clinging to the side of the wall, watching, waiting._

_Finally, finally the face of the titan came into view. It was eerily still, its eyes heavily lidded as if it were lethargic, its jaw hanging slack with steam pouring from the open throat. It only had patches of hair, and as the steam continued to dissipate, Levi found patches of its skin were missing with the muscle underneath frayed and torn like wires._

_Hanji shouted something Levi's ears couldn't make out, though he was sure they were trying to grab Eren's attention. They continued to yell in that overly cheerful voice of theirs._

_And then the beast roared louder than he'd ever heard before. Only twenty-two seconds had passed, and the beast fell to its knees with a cacophonous boom that rattled the ground - and Levi was springing into action. Various forms of his name reached his ears as he swung toward the grass, but he paid them no mind as his main concern was with Eren. He swung directly into the thinning cloud of hot steam and found a steady perch on the titan’s shoulder just as it suddenly went completely silent and limp, slumping toward the ground in a fetal position on its knees, its arms thudding against the ground._

_“Dammit, Eren!” Levi hissed as he found his way to the nape where the skin was a bit puckered and stretched out - where he knew Eren would be. Automatically his eyes were measuring out where Eren's body was trapped inside the beast, preparing to cut him out as quickly as possible without severing any limbs or fingers._

_He tore away at titan flesh with his blades, ignoring the steam immediately rising up and nearly blinding him. He could hear shouting from all around, could hear the zipping of maneuver gear cords, yet he paid it no mind. His priority was Eren._

_Eventually, he came to a mop of brown hair, the reddened skin of Eren's neck, and a half-lidded left eye. He continued to tear it away and once most of Eren's torso was revealed, sheathed his blades and leaned down into the fleshy heat, worming his arms around Eren's torso and yanking him upward. The muscle-y flesh connected to the usually smooth skin of Eren's cheeks snapped almost immediately, but his trapped arms were a different story. As Levi tugged and slashed at it, holding up Eren's limp, too hot body all the while he spit curses to the wind until finally, finally he managed to completely free Eren's body from the titan that, without the boy inside, was already beginning to evaporate into the air._

_Quickly, Levi gathered the unresponsive boy into his arms and hopped from the hunk of steaming flesh. His own skin felt almost searing; between moisture from the steam and his own sweat, his hair and clothes clung to his skin. The air once outside the vapor cloud was a major relief, and he sunk to his knees before easing Eren onto the ground in front of him._

_In no time they were surrounded by other soldiers, including Erwin, who had a hard, steely look in his eyes - whether it was due to Levi deliberately disobeying orders or Eren's condition (or both), the corporal did not know, though he expected an earful for it later._

_“Eren,” he said, shaking the titan shifter by the shoulders. “Wake up, brat.”_

_Levi was internally panicking. Eren's eyes were shut, his skin an odd, light shade of pink as if he'd suffered minor first degree burns all over. Lines ran from beneath his eyes to his jawline where he'd been connected to the beast on the inside, and there was no definitive sign of life._

_Several sets of feet ran forward from the small crowd of soldiers. Levi didn't have to look up to know it was the rest of his squad._

_Holding his breath, Levi pressed two fingers just beneath Eren's jaw and waited. A small sigh of relief involuntarily escaped his lips when he felt the quickened thrumming beneath them - though the rate of his heart was seemingly a bit too fast…_

_“We need to get him back,” Levi said. “Quickly.”_

_A few feet ran off to fetch a cart and others went to investigate what was left of the titan carcass, per Hanji’s orders. Another set of legs kneeled at Eren's side - Erwin. The corporal ignored him while he worked on collecting Eren's body in his arms again just as his eyes peeled themselves open and a soft moan escaped his lips._

_“Eren?” Levi asked, brows knitting heavily toward one another. “You in there, kid?”_

_Slowly, just as Levi's ears picked up the clattering of carriage wheels, Eren's eyes trailed up to Levi's, mildly unfocused. “Levi?” he breathed, barely audible._

_“Yeah, kid, I'm here,” the corporal assured. “You're such a slacker,” he muttered._

_The very corner of Eren's lips turned up a bit, a breath resembling a laugh brushing past them. “Sorry…”_

_Levi rolled his eyes and pulled the teen's body closer to him and worked on pushing himself to his feet. Eren fell almost completely limp in his arms; he could feel the shifter's heart racing at an almost unnatural rate. The corporal refused to leave his side as he was placed in the carriage and covered with a light sheet. Two others joined for the ride, and though he barely spared them a glance, Levi knew it was Armin and Mikasa._

_Only moments later they set off back toward the castle with the rest of the legion trailing behind on horses or between the buildings with their gear._

_“What went wrong?” Levi was asking Hanji several hours later. They stood at the foot of Eren's bed in the infirmary, watching Eren sleep. He'd curled up on his side, his hair splayed about the pillowcase and his cheek pressed into the palm of his hand._

_“Not entirely sure,” Hanji responded. “There wasn't enough of the carcass left after you pulled him out to tell much. Judging by his fever, though, I'd say it put his body in some kind of shock, suddenly transforming like that after so many months.”_

_“Has his fever gone down any?”_

_“A little. But it'll be a while before we're able to test it again. His body will need the time to recoup.”_

_Levi forced a swallow. “So his life isn't in danger?”_

_“No. His vitals are strong. And with my past data from experiments with him, the elevated heart rate and blood pressure, along with the fever is fairly normal with his ability.”_

_Levi gritted his teeth. Sure, the heart rate and blood pressure spike was normal for him, but not quite at such an alarming rate, and the fever was much too high for Levi's comfort zone. Nonetheless, it wasn't his place to make any medical judgment - he knew the bare minimum basics and that was it. But if anything happened to Eren, he'd be having some strong words with several people._

_“Relax, Levi,” Hanji said with a smirk, placing a hand on his shoulder. “He'll be fine. You of all people know he's a fighter.” With that, they strode from the room, leaving Levi alone with the sleeping cadet._

_He remained at the foot of the bed a few seconds longer before sighing and taking a seat in a chair at Eren's bedside. He could watch the boy's ribs expand and contract with his mildly quickened breathing, could see his eyes flicking back and forth beneath their lids. His caramel skin was flushed a soft rosy hue from his fever, and he'd been virtually unresponsive since right after being pulled from his titan. Oddly enough, the bite wound he’d inflicted to transform was nowhere to be seen which, with the other scars on his hands from the previous times, worried the corporal.With these things in account, Levi wasn't prepared to leave him alone._

_It took less than a day for Eren to come to, and only two days for him to be mobile again. But his fever remained for nearly a week despite anything they gave him to try and break it. They kept him in the infirmary just in case, and rarely was he alone, Levi being the one in his company more than anyone._

_“You don't think anyone will get suspicious that you're here so much?” Eren whispered one night._

_“I don't care if they do.” And he'd meant it. At that, Eren's lips quirked up into a small, tired smile. He'd wished Levi would crawl into the bed with him, but they both knew the risks of being walked in on, and that was a scenario neither of them had the energy or desire to deal with. So while Eren curled up around a pillow instead, Levi remained in his chair, often with paperwork and different possible strategies others in the regiment came up with._

_It was just over a month before the medical team - and Hanji, who was all too eager to do more experiments on the poor kid - deemed him ready to try for a second experiment in trying to coax his titan abilities back after being unable to transform on the failed expedition to the basement. They used the same spot; Levi insisted upon being against the wall with Hanji’s squad rather than on top of it, bringing him closer to the shifter and therefore making it easier to get to him and cut him out if need be._

_Hanji gave their cue, and Eren bit into his right hand once more. A flash of green light and a cloud of steam erupted from where he stood, and suddenly there stood the fifteen meter titan with its piercing green irises and mop of chocolate brown hair. Its eyes lifted from the ground and found Levi directly; he could just feel Eren in there and Hanji let out an excited holler._

_They let themselves jump to the ground and sprinted right up to the beast, who watched them with mildly startled eyes. They shouted something Levi couldn't make out just as the last of the steam dissipated and then the beast knelt down, offering its hand for the lunatic of a soldier to clamber their way into without a second's hesitation._

_“That damn fool,” Levi muttered as he released his cords from the wall and hopped to the ground himself, followed by the rest of Hanji’s squad. Despite his irritated scoff, he couldn't deny his relief. Eren was acting impeccably normal as he lifted Hanji toward his face, who automatically started giving him commands to follow, which he followed with ease._

_After scratching several things in the dirt in Eren's messy handwriting, stacking a few things, among several other commands, Hanji hopped from his hand and spun in a circle, rejoicing that their shifter ‘had returned!’_

_Arms crossed, Levi gazed straight up at the beast, who sat cross-legged on its bare ass. He swore, just as Eren met his eyes, despite the beast lacking lips, that it smiled proudly at him._

_“Brat,” Levi muttered under his breath._

_By then, the rest of the legion was joining them on the ground, some applauding and some smiling at the success. Levi felt Erwin saunter up behind him and glanced over to find him nodding in approval in Eren's direction._

_“Looks like we may be able to start planning another expedition soon!” Hanji gushed as they trotted up._

_“Not so fast,” Erwin murmured. “We have to make sure this keeps up becau--”_

_The instinctual tightening of his gut had Levi stopping listening and his head whipping back up to the titan. Its eyes had suddenly gone vacant and completely gray, holding no more luster or animation to indicate Eren's presence within it. Its arms slid off its thighs and thudded into the ground, just before its head lolled forward._

_That was all it took for Levi to draw his blades and run in Eren's direction. The hooks of his cords were embedded into a giant shoulder in a second flat, and in the next he was launching through the air toward the beast's face. Almost as soon as the soles of his boots connected with its skin, it snapped to attention and a giant hand came up to grab at him. Fortunately, he managed to launch himself over its shoulder and sink a blade into it to keep himself from tumbling back to the ground. The beast roared in pain, causing the corporal to wince as he watched a giant hand follow him._

_“Eren!” he yelled, dodging it once more and clinging to the titan just above where the boy was embedded inside. He was only met with another roar erupting from the titan’s giant throat, this one different than others he’d heard. It was almost...agonized and steam began curling from the orifices in its head. “Dammit,” he hissed. He could feel the thing heating up by the second and knew he’d have to get Eren out as fast as possible before the situation became life-threatening, if it wasn’t already._

_The corporal worked quickly, tearing his blades into the flesh again and again to rip it away from the boy’s body with his bare hands. The impossible heat seared at his own flesh; the more he tore into it, the more steam rose up and blinded him, but he had to fight it, he had to get Eren out of there._

_“Captain!” he heard from several voices toward the ground but offered no response. “What’s going on?!” someone else shouted, followed by a command in a deeper voice that could only be Erwin’s._

_Finally, Levi felt the soft texture of Eren’s clothing beneath the pads of his fingers. He searched up, squinting into the steam to find the boy’s head. When he did, he found it to be completely concealed by muscle, only a few clumps of his hair free from the searing prison._

_“C’mon, kid, work with me here…” he muttered. His hands were beginning to go numb from the pain of being burned; tears streamed down his cheeks from the heat stinging at his eyes and his face was so hot it almost felt cold, but he refused to give up. He worked at cutting away the muscle from Eren’s face, afraid that, with the titan immobile again, Eren couldn’t breathe being trapped like that._

_And suddenly, just as Levi managed to free his head, another set of hands and blades came to his aid. He didn’t bother to look up to see who they belonged to though he was thankful for the help, for they got Eren out in half the time it would’ve taken him on his own._

_Levi gasped in a breath of fresh air as soon as he carried Eren out of the thick cloud of titan steam and fell to his knees almost immediately. He could feel himself shaking, could see the blisters already beginning to form on his hands. Still, he laid the unconscious kid on the ground and pressed an ear to his chest to be met with the abnormally quickened beating of his heart._

_“Get him back,” he rasped, vaguely aware of the people rushing around him. “Hurry.” He moved to gather Eren to his chest once more and lift him when a hand on his shoulder stopped him._

_“Slow down there, Levi,” came Hanji’s still-chipper voice. “You’re injured, too.”_

_“He’s more important,” he muttered, pushing himself up anyway and dragging his feet over to the waiting carriage. Several other sets of hands helped him ease Eren into the carriage and, despite the vigorous trembling of his hands, the stinging of his eyes and tingling of his burned skin, managed to climb in beside him just as the previous time. Briefly he looked up to find Mikasa boarding beside him as well, her own hands sporting a blistering red - though they weren’t nearly as bad as his - and it took him only a split second to realize she was the one who’d jumped in to rescue him from his searing prison of flesh._

_Mikasa’s eyes were not on him, but on her unconscious childhood friend and adopted sibling with a deep worry set in her dark irises. And he couldn’t blame her - Eren looked terrible, with crimson red lines decorating the skin of his cheeks, the rest of his face a flushed red, his eyes visibly spastically darting in a hundred different directions beneath their closed lids. Every once in a while, his hands or his feet would twitch; his breath came in short little pants._

_Levi forced back a swallow and slumped against the inside of the carriage, his stinging eyes sliding shut themselves. A few moments later, a soft voice was calling out his name and he peeled them back open to find Hanji offering him a cool, wet cloth, which they placed across his hands. He automatically relaxed; though the cloth was just a bit of relief, it was enough to keep him going until they made it back to HQ. From then until they got back, he didn’t once take his eyes off Eren in spite of his own pain._

_It took Eren nearly a week to come to, and again Levi rarely left his side. He’d been in a chair at Eren’s bedside with his arms and legs crossed, asleep when the sudden rattle of a chain pulled him back to consciousness. His eyes snapped open to find Eren sitting completely up, his eyes opened to two different sizes almost crazed, tugging weakly yet relentlessly at the chains bound to his wrists._

_“Calm down, kid,” Levi said softly, reaching out with his own bandaged fingers to still Eren’s chaotic thrashing. “You’re safe.”_

_As soon as Eren felt the warmth against his hands he stilled and looked up at his superior with sudden recognition. His eyes opened a bit more, his breathing slowed._

_“Levi?” he breathed._

_“Hey,” mumbled the corporal, sinking back down into his chair without releasing Eren’s hand. “You’ve been out for almost a week. How you feel?”_

_A chain rattled as the cadet’s hand came up to his throat. “Thirsty,” he mumbled. “And cold. But...otherwise okay, I guess…”_

_Levi was already halfway up and headed toward the other side of the room to retrieve a cup of water for his subordinate by the time he finished answering. “Yeah, you suddenly went rogue again,” he explained. “Don’t know if you remember...but you’re alright. Hanji’s been working on some theories…” He turned to offer Eren the water. “But they’re too stubborn to admit that the effects of whatever injection your father gave you back then is probably just reaching its limit.”_

_Eren tenderly took the cup between his hands and sipped mildly at it; the relief on his face as the cool liquid slid down his parched throat was instantaneous, but that was when he caught sight of Levi’s hands and nearly dropped the cup._

_“What happened to you?” he gasped, leaning toward his superior as he took his place in the chair once again._

_Levi pressed his lips together, hesitating in his answer. He knew Eren deserved the truth, but hated how it’d make him feel once he knew what it was from. Knew Eren would immediately blame himself and waste his time feeling guilty about something he couldn’t control._

_“Burns,” he quipped. “They’re nothing.”_

_“But if they’re bandaged, they’re bad…”_

_Levi held even with his gaze for a moment before opting to change the subject. “Do you remember what happened?”_

_Eren’s brows tugged together in bewilderment. “I think I remember everything being normal...but that was about it.” His gaze dropped. “But I guess if I’m here and chained to the wall, things went wrong, didn’t they?”_

_“You heated up. Immensely. And Erwin ordered you be chained to the wall just to be safe.”_

_“I must’ve done something bad for him to do that…” Eren’s voice was small. Without even knowing exactly what happened, the guilt was flooding in - Levi could sense it. “Did I hurt someone?”_

_“Not technically.” The corporal moved to perch himself on the mattress beside his subordinate. “You kept grabbing for me when I was trying to get you out.”_

_The kid’s frown deepened and his eyes reverted back to Levi’s covered injuries before trailing up to his face. “Did I hurt you?” he nearly gasped._

_“No. I’m too fast for you, even in titan form.” When Eren didn’t respond with the grin Levi expected, he sighed. “Even if you did, it wouldn’t have been intentional. I know that, so you can spare yourself the guilt.”_

_Eren said nothing but lifted his water to his lips again for a small sip. Levi could tell he was feeling drained despite the week of sleep he'd gotten; his eyes were framed by dark circles, the lines on his cheeks only just beginning to fade, his hair a mess and his breathing uneven._

_“Get some rest, Eren,” Levi said, standing up._

_“Are you gonna leave?” Eren asked quietly._

_“You know I should.” Levi moved the chair he'd been using toward the wall._

_The chain rattled; Levi turned to find Eren wrapping his arms around his own torso, the cup still in hand. He didn't meet the corporal’s eyes._

_“What, you afraid of the dark or something?”_

_Eren's eyes narrowed a bit, but he still didn't look up. After a moment's silence, he said, “It's fine. You can go ahead.” He moved to place the cup on the table beside him, wincing as the cuffs on his wrists rattled more._

_Levi crossed his arms, watching as Eren's eyes finally lifted to his. It was almost as if he could feel the loneliness projected in those eyes, the pain, even a miniscule amount of fear. And it wasn't of the dark; Levi knew that._

_“Alright. I'll stay for a while.” He perched himself back on the bed, sure to be gentle so he didn't jostle the shifter too much._

_Eren blinked at him, dumbfounded. “But you just said…”_

_“I changed my mind.” He lifted his feet onto the bed, leaning against the wall behind them without uncrossing his arms. “Get some rest.”_

_Eren nodded, but made no move to lie down. He instead shook his arms a bit, rattling the chains again. “Would it be okay…if I went to the bathroom?”_

_“Hmph. No surprise you have to shit after being in bed so long.” Levi stood and retrieved the key from a cabinet across the room to remove the shackles. Eren rubbed at his temporarily freed wrists before moving toward the end of the bed and placing his bare feet on the wooden floor. As he pushed himself up, he wobbled and immediately started to stumble forward, his legs weak from lack of use. Reflexively, Levi caught him by the shoulders to steady him._

_“S-sorry,” Eren breathed out._

_Levi hummed quietly, forcing away the grimace from stretching the burned skin of his hands. He was more worried about the heat he could feel radiating from his subordinate even through the thin cotton of Eren's T-shirt and the bandages on his own hands. Instinctively, he brushed the inside of his wrist across the shifter’s forehead and automatically frowned. Eren was still significantly burning up._

_“Wh-what’s the matter?” he murmured, a bit flustered._

_“Your fever’s showing no signs of breaking.”_

_“Oh…”_

_“Go on.” Levi gestured toward the bathroom._

_With only a second's pause, Eren shuffled toward the bathroom, Levi following and watching carefully to make sure he didn't stumble again until he shut the door. He stood waiting, absently chewing his lip in worry for his subordinate, his mind working on ways to bring down his fever…_

_When the door reopened, Eren was mid-yawn with a hand up his shirt scratching his chest. Levi had to force himself to keep his eyes away from the exposed skin until he nearly collapsed back into the bed. An involuntary frown etched its way into Levi's features while he reluctantly placed the cuffs around the kid's wrists again._

_“Are you still gonna stay?” Eren mumbled, dazedly blinking up at the corporal, who offered but a curt nod in answer. This elicited a small smile from the titan-shifter as he moved over a bit and patted the now vacant spot beside him. “Sit with me.”_

_“Hmph. You need to sleep, kid,” Levi retorted for the third time that night. “You're delusional.”_

_“Am not,” Eren grumbled back._

_Levi rolled his eyes and perched himself beside Eren, who automatically leaned into him. Levi felt himself tense up as Eren's mop of hair found a comfortable place on his chest; he placed a tender hand on his warm shoulder._

_“What about you…?” Eren mumbled._

_“The hell are you talking about?”_

_“You need rest, too.”_

_“Quiet, kid. You know how little I sleep.”_

_“Mm...yeah, I guess…”_

_Levi's free hand reached up to extinguish the torch above the bed before finding Eren's hair in the sudden darkness. Despite his hands being confined in the bandages, he gently pulled his fingers through the chocolate-colored mop, the other gently rubbing Eren's side. In no time, the kid was asleep and breathing deeply, leaving Levi to his thoughts for the remainder of the night._

_Eren was confined to the infirmary for another ten days. Levi’s bandages came off for good two days after that, and they were back to fairly normal routine. Erwin required Eren to make a visit back to his medic every other day for a checkup before he reported it back to the commander himself._

_“Three months,” he told both him, Levi, and Hanji one morning at breakfast. “We wait three months to try it again. In the meantime, we plan strategies and do business as usual. I don't want to risk putting too much strain on your body and risk your life needlessly.”_

_Though Eren's brows were set together in frustration, he nodded. Gently, Levi knocked his knee against the shifter’s to send some reassurance, knowing how much Eren hated to be virtually ‘incapacitated’. It made him feel useless while, in human form, he bore no outstanding abilities aside from his unrelenting drive and motivation to win this war._

_For Eren, it was a long three months, and though he was getting used to the frequent doctor visits and ‘business as usual’, he was growing restless. The only thing that kept his mind at ease were nights spent next to Levi, be it sleeping while the man did his paperwork or lost himself in some sort of book, sleeping next to him, or lying in the dark either talking or in a comfortable silence._

_When the three months was up, Levi was forced to cut Eren from his titan for a third time, again with Mikasa’s help and the rest of the Special Operations Squad nearby on the ground, expecting the same results as last time. He'd had to bite his hand twice before the explosion occurred, and when the titan stood before them, it almost immediately began attempting to pull its hair out, endless roars ripping from its throat._

_And yet Eren was fully conscious when he was pulled from the steaming muscle and flesh, his burning irises almost immediately finding Levi's through the steam._

_Mikasa and Levi both managed to shuffle him back onto the ground, despite his slurring protests of saying he could walk on his own. They lowered him down onto a readied sheet across the grass, his muffled protests slowing and his eyelids fluttering as if he was trying to stay awake._

_“Water,” Levi ordered immediately. Not two seconds later a canteen was being held out to him; without bothering to look at who the hand belonged to, he snatched it and quickly unscrewed the cap before holding it down to Eren’s level, sliding a hand beneath his head to lift it and press the opening to his lower lip. The boy’s eyes fluttered again and when he realized what was happening, took several long gulps of the liquid._

_“‘M okay…” he mumbled once the canteen was pulled away from his face._

_“Let’s get you back,” Hanji said from the side. Eren’s eyes slowly found theirs and he managed to prop himself up on an elbow._

_“No...I...I wanna try again.”_

_“No,” Levi said immediately._

_“Not a good idea, there, Eren,” Hanji agreed, kneeling down. “That reaction was to erratic and probably put a lot of strain on your body. It’s best if you rest for now.”_

_And even in his mildly dazed state, Eren managed an annoyed sigh. “At least let me walk,” he insisted._

_“Think you can?” Mikasa asked worriedly._

_“Yeah,” breathed the shifter._

_Levi was the one to help him move to his feet and once he was there, immediately started toward the carriage that would be carting them back to headquarters. The corporal remained by his side as a precaution, noting his knees to be quite unsteady. The kid made it about halfway from the sheet to the carriage before he gasped and stumbled forward, his arms not even reflexively flying forward to catch himself. Before he could hit the ground, however, Levi intervened the fall with an arm around his ribs, nearly buckling under the sudden extra weight himself._

_* * *_

_“I’m tired of this damn room,” Eren muttered several nights after the incident. He was sprawled out on his back staring blankly at the ceiling, an annoyed frown etched into his features._

_“So am I, kid. Believe me,” Levi responded without so much as looking up from the book he was writing in, documenting the situation for his own records._

_“Then let me leave,” Eren grumbled, “and we can go back to your room.”_

_That managed to coax the smallest of smirks from the captain, though he made sure not to let Eren catch a glimpse. “Not my decision,” he said, nearly accidentally writing the words he spoke and screwing up his whole sentence._

_Another heavy sigh of irritation blew from Eren’s lungs._

_* * *_

_Leave it to Hanji to come up with the bright idea of attempting some odd form of therapy to see if it helped with Eren’s titanization. As Levi watched from the sidelines in the training grounds, it looked like nothing more than simple physical therapy, but he wasn’t one to argue, especially after Eren all-too enthusiastically agreed to try it._

_“I’ll try anything that might help,” he’d said. “I want this to work again.”_

_‘I want to be useful,’ is what Levi had heard, knowing good and well that was why Eren was entirely too eager to continue the experiments. He’d had enough conversations with the brat getting emotional about being ‘useless’ if he lost his ability for good to know._

_Hanji ‘tortured’ him for a good three weeks, each task she had him do always more physically demanding than the last, and eventually Eren looked as if he was about ready to collapse from exhaustion. The one night in an entire week he mustered the energy to sneak up to Levi’s room, he’d stayed awake for maybe ten minutes before succumbing to his exhaustion with his head on Levi’s stomach, forcing the man to remain in an odd position for most of the night and end up with a stiff neck the next day. (Though he wouldn’t say he minded much.)_

_After two more weeks of rest, they tried it again. Levi swore he’d never seen his subordinate look more bound and determined to get something right in the couple years he’d known him, and had only once before seen that undying turquoise fire burning passionately in those lustrous irises. He believed the therapy worked, and though Levi was skeptical about it, he wouldn’t say anything to dull those flames; they gave him too much of a thrill._

_Eren’s ‘titan’ was nothing but an enormous half skeleton with miscellaneous muscles clinging to them, his body not even ending up in the beast itself. He was found instead crumpled in the grass, his hands twitching, his breathing erratic, his eyes half-lidded and clearly only vaguely aware of what was going on. This time he lacked the fever yet remained in the infirmary for a month, his body rejecting any kind of nourishment that wasn’t water or broth and too weak for him to merely stand up on his own._

_Levi would never forget what the kid had said to him in the middle of the night halfway through his stay in the infirmary._

_“We’re going to lose this war because of me.”_

_And there was not a thing the man could think to say to ease his mind of that statement._

_* * *_

_They waited six months to attempt any more experiments, per Erwin’s orders._

_“I think this might have to do with pushing him too hard too soon after each attempt. So we’ll give his body time to recuperate before doing anything else. In the meantime, train as a normal cadet as much as you can under Levi’s wing. Don’t focus your mind on your abilities.”_

_Levi made sure to keep him as occupied as he could to keep his thoughts away from it over those six long months. But two nights before the next attempt was supposed to take place, he’d woken up to find the other side of his bed vacant of the brunet and set out in search of him, only to find him down in the dining hall huddled near one of the windows._

_“Hey, kid.”_

_Eren’s eyes shined up toward Levi as he shuffled toward him. “Sorry,” he mumbled._

_“For?”_

_“Leaving.”_

_Levi waved him off and sunk to the floor a few feet away. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”_

_“Yes and no…”_

_“Hm?”_

_Eren audibly swallowed and pulled his knees up. “I’m...thinking about my mother,” he said quietly._

_“Why’s that?”_

_“Because I swore to myself I’d avenge her and if this doesn’t work...if I’ve lost this ability forever, I’ll be breaking that promise. And I’ll be breaking a promise to her, too.”_

_Levi could think of nothing to say to that, so he simply tugged at Eren’s fingers and held his hand in his own. Eren always seemed to be so warm, but with his own clammy fingers, he enjoyed the sensation._

_The younger gazed down at their hands. “And I…” He cut himself off, lowering his head more._

_“You…?”_

_“I don’t wanna let you down...even more than I don’t want to break that promise.”_

_Levi had half the mind to dig his thumbnail into the back of Eren’s hand. “Idiot,” he muttered, skimming the pad of his thumb across Eren’s knuckles instead._

_“What am I an idiot for this time?”_

_“Forgetting what I told you when we were in that tower.”_

_“I didn’t forget. I’m just afraid it might happen anyway.”_

_“It won’t.”_

_“A-are you sure?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“...Promise?”_

_A pause. Then, “Promise.”_

_* * *_

_“Ready to try again, then?” Hanji was asking a couple days later. The entirety of the Survey Corps was back on the field surrounding Eren once again, blades drawn and ready from a few dozen meters away, just in case. Hanji and Levi were the only ones near the shifter, whose eyes swam with apprehensiveness._

_“I think so,” he said._

_“Know so,” Hanji told him, “or we shouldn’t be doing this.”_

_Turquoise irises flickered toward stone gray ones. Levi gave him a miniscule nod of encouragement; despite his own uneasiness about the situation. This would be the fifth attempt with none of the others being even remotely successful._

_“Yeah,” Eren said. “I'm ready.”_

_“That's the spirit,” beamed Hanji with a hand on the kid's shoulder. “I think this time luck is on our side.”_

_Levi made it a point to keep in eye contact as long as he could as he walked away. As he came to a stop at Hanji’s side, they held their arm up, signaling the countdown to those above on the wall and then pointing directly at Eren who, exactly on cue, sunk his teeth into his own flesh._

_The familiar wave of heat washed over Levi's exposed skin as Eren's form disappeared into a thick cloud of steam billowing around him. From it rose the familiar figure of his titan and he anxiously waited for the fog to clear, to see if this one truly was successful as much as he doubted it in his very bones._

_The titan was completely faceless. Where the face should've been was nothing but shiny stretched skin with only random, stringy clumps of chocolate-colored hair hanging from its scalp. While the titan remained standing, the entire upper half of its body was limp, its arms hanging loosely at its side and its chin resting against its chest._

_Erwin's previous orders to keep his distance for at least two minutes before rushing in to Eren's rescue suddenly meant nothing, just as the first time. If the titan was faceless and completely immobile, Eren wouldn't last long being trapped inside; Levi couldn't have cared less about what Erwin might say later. He broke out into a full-on sprint toward the beast, whose fingers were beginning to pour steam that gradually started traveling up its arms, the skin evaporating away from the bones it clung to._

_Voices erupted from around the entire regiment, shouts of shock and surprise tangled with orders nearly drowned out by heavy bootsteps._

_Rushing into the steam was even hotter than the time he’d gotten burned. Grimacing past the thick moisture and the scent of the air laced with something akin to rotting flesh, Levi pressed on, managing to reach the titan’s right shoulder before its knees gave out. The impact rattled his bones and the heat stung his eyes as he slashed at the searing flesh to dig the boy out of the muscle-y prison._

_Numb. His body was completely numb by the time he dragged Eren's body from the remainder of the carcus. The boy was completely unresponsive and dangerously hot, his face shiny with sweat and his skin flushed bright red - the same color Levi adored to see when he blushed, but for completely different reasons._

_Levi was met with several pairs of hands attempting to help by wrapping them in a sheet. Voices swam to his ringing ears but making out any coherent words was impossible. Eren in arms, he sunk into the grass, unable to hold the weight any longer._

_“...a minute to rest.” A familiar voice finally managed to penetrate the drum of his head._

_“Armin, get some water,” someone else said. “And wet a cloth with some for Eren's ski-”_

_The commander's voice immediately cut of as Eren's body jerked in an awkward fashion in Levi's limp before the muscles throughout his entire body began twitching, seizing, and jerking his limbs and bending his torso in odd directions. Levi's hands froze in midair as he watched in pure shock, somehow knowing what was happening but bearing not a clue how to stop it._

_“He's having a seizure!” barked Hanji before they started yelling orders to the rest of the squads._

_More voices traveled around, the sound of carriage wheels and horse hooves, but none of it really registered. Levi couldn't tear his eyes from the shifter, from his shifter until his body gradually stilled again and relaxed against his legs, though his breath came in awkward little hiccups, his hands still twitching._

_The trip back was an absolute blur, and the next thing Levi knew, he was peeling his dry, dry eyes open to the blurry wooden ceiling of the infirmary. The room was lit with dull gray light. An unrhythmic pattering sounded from above._

_Rain…_

_‘Where's Eren…?’_

_He felt too weak to even push himself to sit up. Bandages encased his hands and arms again, his neck, were even taped to parts of his face._

_‘Is he alive?’_

_His eyelids did nothing to clear his vision or chase away the sandpapery-ness of his eyes; swallowing only caused him to realize how his throat was even dryer._

_‘Tell me he's alive…’_

_“It's nice to see you awake again,” a soft soprano said from across the room. Footsteps drew nearer and there was suddenly an olive-colored female face in view. “How do you feel, Mr. Ackerman?”_

_Levi internally winced at the name. “Thirsty,” he managed in a scratchy, shredded voice he couldn't even recognize as his own._

_“Would you like to sit up?”_

_He nodded and the woman moved his bed to sit him up before offering a straw to his lips. He hated having to be cared for in such a dependent way, but he couldn't deny the cold water felt good wetting his mouth and throat. When she moved away, he was automatically scoping out the place. It took very little searching for his eyes to land right on Eren, curled up in the bed next to his._

_Red. His face was completely flushed, his face still covered with a layer of sweat. Every few seconds, a tremor ran the length of his body. His breath still came in pants, though his eyes were still beneath their lids._

_“How is he…?” Levi croaked._

_“Not much has changed in the past couple of hours,” the medic explained as she moved to gently run a cool cloth over Eren's skin. “He's got a dangerously high fever, and without his healing abilities, I'm afraid it can be life threatening…”_

_Levi's heart jumped into his throat. Eren didn't so much as twitch at her touch._

_“As for you...you've got second degree burns on your hands and parts of your arms, face, and neck, but they're nothing a little skin serum can't treat over a few weeks.”_

_Levi’s eyes narrowed. “It’s only been a few hours?” he asked._

_“Mhm.”_

_“Where's the commander?”_

_“Not sure. Would you like me to have someone look for him for you? He only left half an hour ago.”_

_“Check his office.”_

_Erwin made his appearance not five minutes later, and he could see Levi was ready to practically chew him out before he even made it over to his bed. He held up a hand to stop him before he could start._

_“I know what you want to say,” he said, “and I agree. I'm drawing the line.” He perched himself on a chair near the window._

_Levi's steely eyes never left his face. “Don't make him go through that again,” he muttered lowly._

_“I wouldn't. I know it's time to draw the line as much as I hate to say it. His ability was an inexpendable asset to us, but he's better alive and without it than dead.”_

_Levi nodded firmly. “Have you spoken to Hanji?”_

_“Yes, and they agree.”_

_“Good.”_

_* * *_

_Levi was right by Eren's side when he came to two weeks later. Levi had been released from the infirmary only hours after waking up, but Eren had remained._

_A soft whimper sounded from Eren's parted, chapped lips before his lashes fluttered a bit, his eyes flashing in and out of sight until he managed to keep them slightly open. Something that sounded like a mumbled word came out._

_“Hey, slacker,” Levi said, leaning toward him with narrow, concerned eyes._

_“Mmph...Le...vi…?”_

_“Yeah, it's me. ‘Bout time you opened those shitty eyes of yours.”_

_“Levi…” he breathed again, his eyes opening just a bit wider._

_“You're fine. Just relax, okay? I'm not going anywhere.”_

_And just like that, he drifted back under._

_It took another week to get him mobile again, and Levi would never forget the look of absolute disbelief and hopelessness on his face when Erwin broke the news about drawing the line on the experiments. It damn near broke his heart, and he vowed to train Eren even further in physical combat to make up for his lost abilities. Though he knew in Eren's perspective the kid believed he'd let the entire human race down; there was very little the corporal knew he could do to change his mind about it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah like I said, only half edited, so if there's some weird grammar shit or whatever, let me know and I'll fix it asap. Thanks guys, love ya :*


	19. Collapse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this, an update so soon?! Yes, yes indeed it is. It's a shorter chapter, but has...slight plot development to it, and I felt bad about making you guys wait a month for the last update. So enjoy!

The wooden paneling of the ceiling gradually comes back into focus as the memories of those two long years fades out. I still feel the warmth of Levi’s wing beneath my back, still feel the sting as his fingers trace gently over my scars, yet the rest of my entire body feels cold. Cold like the days when I ran 101, 102 degree fevers for days on end after being cut out of a malfunctioning titan…

I can feel it coming. My chest grows tight, constricting my lungs. Tears prick at my eyes and my muscles feel almost like rubber. I have to go. I have to get out of there and away from Levi before he sees the worst of what's coming.

I sit up. “I’m gonna go get some dinner,” I say.

It throws him off guard; usually he’s the one to push me into going to get a meal, but of course he doesn’t protest. He watches me through narrow eyes; I manage a small smile, knowing somewhere deep down that he doesn’t for a second buy it but hoping he does anyway, before retreating from the cell.

* * *

I sit up after Eren leaves in haste. He threw me a half-assed smile that better resembled a grimace before disappearing up the stairs. I decide it's best to leave him be for the time being - let him eat and give him time for himself - so I decide to stretch my wings. They've been twitchy for the last several days without being used, and I'm anxious to get to the air again.

Flying - seemingly the only good thing that came from my death. Though I don't know where my wings came from, I stopped wondering only moments after discovering them and _used_ them. Flying is liberating, and since I've been able to do it, I've wanted to be able to bring Eren along, to show him how the world looks from the air, but my wings aren't strong enough to carry us both…

As I leap from one of the upper window sills and snap them out, I have to roll my eyes at myself. _Such a lame, unfortunate metaphor._

But the thought quickly vanishes as I feel the warm evening air brushing across my bare skin and whipping through my hair, tangling itself in my feathers and weaving its way beneath my wings as they carry me higher. The gray stone of headquarters grows smaller as I get farther away, and before I know it I'm thirty meters up, forty, fifty, sixty. I can see _everything_.

I have no destination in mind, so I let the air currents carry me, banking and dipping only to let a gust catch my wings and carry me back up. It's natural as breathing, as natural as it feels to be with Eren. That damn maneuver gear was a _joke_ compared to this.

 _If only that brat could see this_ , I can't help but think. _If only he could experience this, too, maybe he wouldn't be…_

And that's when I feel it. The pain in my stomach, the sudden weakness in my joints, the absolutely _pounding_ rhythm in my chest. It causes me to drop right out of the sky from forty meters up and through the tangled, leafy branches of an ash tree before I have just enough sense to brace my muscles and land hard, but safely. It's suddenly difficult to breathe; it nearly feels like sobs are breaking from my chest and contracting my lungs, though I'm not actually weeping.

_Eren!!_

I don't know where he is, but I'm on my feet in a split second, headed across the grass in the next headed directly for HQ. Fortunately I didn't fall too far from it, and it takes maybe a minute to make it back. The thudding in my chest does not relent the closer I get.

Somehow I just know the building itself is void of the kid, so I completely disregard the front doors and head to the west side of it, toward the training grounds. With no regard to whether anyone sees, I yank the doors to the first supply shed open. Nothing. The next, nothing. Nothing, nothing. But I know I'm getting closer.

He's in the very last one, huddled in on himself in the corner with one hand tangled into a fist through his hair, the other's nails digging into the opposite arm. His knees are up and he's shaking so hard he looks as if he's vibrating. The only sounds are small, infrequent, muffled whimpers.

Though only a few times, I’ve seen this before. I’ve watched him sit in the darkness of his cell and curl in on himself like he’s trying not to scream his lungs out, powerless to do a damn thing about it. I don’t know what’s triggered it, but at this point the main thing on my mind is the fact that I might actually be able to help this burning boy.

“Eren,” I call, moving slowly into the small shed. As the doors swing shut behind me, most of the light is swallowed up save for what shines through a small square window on the back wall.

His body jerks a bit at the sound of my voice. I crouch down next to him to find his eyes squeezed shut, his cheeks wet and shiny with the tears leaking from between his eyelids. His heart is still flying like a hummingbird’s wings. Slowly, I reach out to pry his fingers from his arm before his nails break the skin and draw blood. His teeth snap together but he doesn’t fight my efforts.

But I’m not good at this. I don’t know what to say to him, or what to do to calm him down. I fear attempting to embrace him will only make him feel smothered or cause him to shove me away. Words are completely lost on me, but it agonizes me to watch him in such a desperate state, to feel just an _ounce_ of his pain as he feels it, with the very beating of his own heart in my chest…

So, although awkwardly, I pull the kid’s shaking frame to my chest, sliding my arms around his shoulders to hold him there gently. His breath hitches; my hand finds his hair to tangle itself through.

“Breathe, Eren,” I instruct quietly.

And just those two words has his body melting against mine, knocking me back on my ass by the added weight. I feel his eyelashes brush my collarbone as his eyes open; I pull back just enough to see his face, to see his hooded eyelids, to see the whites of his eyes to be completely bloodshot as the ducts still produce a few tears, following the already wet paths down his flushed cheeks. The oceanic hue of his irises are frighteningly dull.

He’s blanking out.

“Hey, brat. Stay with me.” He blinks slowly. “Come on, Eren, don’t do this.” I take his face between my palms. “Come back…”

His adam’s apple bobs with a swallow, a breath blows through his nostrils, but he shows no signs of pulling himself back. I say everything I can think of to bring him back, but he only mildly responds. So I do the last thing I can think of - I press my lips right to his, hoping to elicit _something_ normal from him.

Nothing.

His heart has slowed - still steady, but it’s thudding lazily like a pendulum. His memories are taking center stage in his mind, consuming his thoughts and essentially blanking out the rest of his consciousness. I can almost feel it for myself, and it feels gray. So gray and dull and like nothingness.

My own eyes sting with tears. All I can do is move myself against the nearest wall, bringing him with me, and wrap a wing around his shoulders. He sinks against my side. Oddly enough, he’s got a vice-like grip around my fingers; it doesn’t hurt, but it’s unrelenting. I don’t know why, but I continue to say things to him. They’re meaningless, but part of me hopes it’ll coax him back to reality.

~

“I’m sorry,” comes his small voice a while later.

“Welcome back, slacker.”

His eyes trail up to my face; he’s absolutely mentally exhausted. It takes him a second, but he pulls away from me once he realize what’s happened, and his eyes trail away from mine. I retract my wing, watching him cautiously.

“What are you sorry for?” I ask after a moment.

“Everything,” he says after another.

“Way to be specific,” I mutter.

“Why did you kiss me?”

“To try and bring you back.”

His head dips down and he pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out a mild sigh. “My mind is hell.”

I bite my tongue at that. I can say nothing because I don’t know what it’s like firsthand. I only mildly know how he feels, and that will do no good. Tension in the room is thick.

“Kiss me again,” he’s saying suddenly.

“Are you sure?”

Eren turns and his eyes meet mine fully and without a drop of hesitation, he nods. Suddenly remembering every damn reason I’m in love with this boy no matter how small or trivial it may be, I lean in and do just as he asks. As our mouths move softly against one another, his arms find their way around my neck, my own hands cupping the sides of his neck. The kiss isn’t hard or urgent, not full of need or want, nor does it travel beyond simply our lips, but it’s intimate. His heart picks up the pace again, but this time it’s lighter somehow, yet dripping with sorrow.

Fingers slide their way into my hair and he presses closer, whimpering quietly. It goes on for a while until he eventually pulls himself away with great reluctance to catch his breath, his head hanging between his arms. The position gives me an opening to press a tender kiss to his forehead, and I take it. His heart skips a bit, and his arms tighten.

“How’d you know I was in here?” he asks after his breathing has slowed a bit.

“I can feel your damn heartbeat, Eren. And apparently your other emotions as long as they’re strong enough. It wasn’t that hard.”

His head snaps up, puzzlement clouding his features. “Huh?”

I shrug. “Don’t know. All I know is that I was flying and suddenly felt your distress. It was almost like a dog following a scent...I just knew where to go.”

Alongside the remaining grief and desperation in his eyes, embarrassment floods in. “Oh…” He swallows quite hard. “That’s...well, crap.” His lip slips between his teeth, his eyes fading out of focus for a moment like he’s unsure of something before his head snaps back up. Frowning, he says, “Wait a minute. You can actually _fly_?”

I raise my brows. “What, you didn’t figure that out by now?” I mutter with a snort.

I watch his skin ripple as the muscles in his jaw tighten and relax a few times. “No,” he mumbles under his breath. “Not really…” He reaches up and plucks a leaf from my hair - I conclude it must’ve been from when I fell from the tree, and I watch his eyes study it for a moment.

“Would you like to see?” After what he’d just gone through and having felt even a fraction of it, I know something like this could be a decent distraction, if only for a while.

His eyes light up a bit as he discards the leaf.. “Seriously?”

As I stand up, pulling him to his feet as well, I can’t help but grin just a bit. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next update probably won't be quite as quick as this one because I'm gonna try and work on the next chapter for my other fic Be My Salvation, but things are finally starting to calm down a bit in life so I don't think it'll take another month - hopefully.
> 
> Thanks for reading, guys! :3


	20. Tremors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is ouch, but I'm not going to apologize because if I was sorry, I wouldn't have done it. ;)

The afternoon is surprisingly cool; a breeze brushes over my skin, lifts my hair, ruffles Levi's wings as he stands at the very edge of Wall Rose, his wings halfway extended. I watch him from several meters away; he's impeccably still, like he's waiting for the right moment to leap off the edge. As a result, I'm wracked with nerves - I know he's got wings on top of the fact that he's already passed...but the idea of him freely jumping off the fifty-meter high wall is the opposite of comforting.

"Calm down, kid," he says, the wind carrying his voice to reach my ears.

 _Dammit_. He can feel my uneasiness, even if just a little. And then I realize my heart rate is elevated and curse myself; I'll never get used to that.

"Are you sure it's safe with all this wind...?" I call back, but I know it's a ridiculous question.

"You kidding? The wind makes it easier."

I press my lips together and resolve to just watch. Levi's toes hang off the edge of the wall; he goes back to being still as a statue, listening and waiting, until he suddenly crouches and bounds off, just like that. Like a child, I scurry over to the edge and look down just in time to see him swooping back up, wings fully extended and the cool breeze beneath them, carrying him higher with ease. As he ascends, flapping several times, I swear I can see him smiling at me.

_That has to be what freedom feels like..._

He swoops around me, catching different currents of air and banks lower before ascending again. I long to join him, to be able to take to the sky and soar wherever we want, boundless and eternal.

The reality that I can't swarms around my thoughts like wasps. It's a kind of jealousy I've never experienced before.

* * *

That evening, we end up back in my room. I can't get the images of Levi's flying out of my head; every time I shut my eyes, all I see are his dark feathers catching the sunlight, ruffling in the wind as his body moves swiftly, smoothly through the air - a sight I'd never seen before, nor one I thought I'd ever see.

Levi lays across my chest, his warm wings spread lazily out across the bed, our feet tangled together and his head tucked into the side of my neck. He's so warm I can feel myself beginning to sweat where our skin is pressed together, but I can't say I mind, and the coolness of the basement is enough to contrast his welcoming heat.

"Feeling better?" he murmurs. I can feel the low vibration of his voice through his chest.

"Mhmm..." I hum contentedly. I've almost completely forgotten why I'd been upset in the first place.

But my brain never lets me forget completely or for long, and the flash of a memory strikes its way through. Levi must feel me tense, because he trails his fingers gently down my side and presses his lips to my neck. He must think I'm lying...

I allow him the access, though, letting his lips press more firmly into my neck before he moves around, peppering my skin with his damp lips. My eyes flutter shut, and I let him distract me. It works much too easily, too, as his mouth finally finds mine, nipping my lower lip lightly with his teeth before his tongue finds its way in, and I welcome him eagerly.

Despite his claim to lack experience, Levi's always been an excellent kisser. The fact that I've got nothing to compare it to is meaningless to me - he knows just what to do to cause goosebumps to rise across the skin of my limbs, to send an electric thrill right down my spine and ignite the ends of my nerves with pleasant heat. He captures even the quietest of involuntary sounds eliciting from the back of my throat, every light gasp and slightest breath.

The strain in my chest from lack of air forces me to pull away. While he's fine, I'm panting lightly, my eyes still shut and my fingers still curled into his soft undercut. His own hands move up, one cupping my jaw and the other running through my hair, pushing it away from my face before his chin lifts and his lips are pressing tenderly against my forehead. There's a kind of hesitancy to it...or maybe some sort of emotion I've never witnessed from him before, and though I can't place it, it gives me an almost... _dreadful_ feeling in my chest.

My lips are just forming his name when a somewhat strained sounding sigh brushes between his lips and across my skin; his hair brushes down over my face before he pushes himself to sit up, his knees straddling my waist with a palm pressed to the center of my chest. His eyes are mostly shielded by his hair, and what little I can see of them, they're closed, his lashes scrunching a bit as he keeps the lids squeezed shut.

"What's wrong?" I ask, worry striking through. If there's one thing I've noticed about him since his reappearance, it's how quickly his mood seems to change - though it's never been quite this drastic.

I'm not surprised not to hear an answer right away, so I slide my fingers between his and give him a moment.

"It hurts, Eren."

The words are so quiet, so full of pain; they seem to pierce right down to my very core. I prop myself up on my elbows, frowning and searching his face for answers.

"What hurts?" I ask.

His lips press together in a hard line as he lifts the hand I'm not holding to run roughly through his hair, unmasking his eyes as they open a sliver. Those dark irises catch the light of the lit torch, and I can see something inside him is burning. Just for that split second I can tell it isn't just something that began a moment ago, or even yesterday, but something he's been dealing with for quite a while now and has hid really, really well.

"All of it," he finally breathes out. His stare is fixed on my chest, his fingers tense between mine. "Being here..." Shakes his head. "I can feel something pulling me back..." Clears his throat. "I don't know what it is...but it's telling me this can't work."

Smothering the sudden buildup of panic inside me is next to impossible. I don't want to ask, but I _have_ to. "That... _what_...can't work?"

In a flash, he's no longer on top of me but sitting at the edge of the bed, leaning over with his head in his hands. I sit up, too, and as much as I want to, I don't move any closer to him.

"You know what I mean, Eren. _This_. My being here when I'm clearly not supposed to be."

_But you promised._

I don't say it. He already knows he promised, and somehow I think saying it will only be adding to his pain - with everything I've already done and hurt him with, I have no right.

"You mean it hurts...emotionally?" I murmur, hoping there's a way to help him, to talk about this, to keep him here with me...

"Emotionally. Mentally. _Physically_."

As he says this, I'm trying to swallow my own emotions, trying to suppress the flashbacks of the first time I lost him. Blanking out would do no good now.

In an instant it hits me how selfish I'm being and have been since the moment I realized he was back, making him promise to stay with me, holding onto him so tightly so he doesn't slip out of my grasp again while he's in _pain_ , just to lessen the weight of my own agonies. My self-loathing suddenly doubles.

"So are you going to leave?" I whisper.

"I don't know," comes his quiet reply.

I shoot up and stride quickly to the bars of the cell as if I'm going to walk out myself, but once I reach the metal I realize I have nowhere to go, nowhere I would _want_ to go. I wrap my hands around the dirty metal and press my forehead against it.

I've never been this torn in my life - between wanting to lessen or even erase his pain but not wanting to let go of him for the sake of my own at the same time. Love is supposed to be selfless - through watching my parents when I was little, through seeing Mikasa and Jean and others around, I've learned this. It shouldn't matter to me whether or not I end up in the throes of my own sick, sick mind - it should only matter that he's happy, whether he stays here or has to go...

_But what do I get out of this?_

Nothing. The answer is nothing at all. Defeated the titans and saved humanity from the clutches of near-extinction? Congratulations, you've won a lifetime of pain and suffering that exists within your own mind!

My whole life suddenly seems pointless. After years of fighting and death and destruction and nothing but _agony_ , even after accomplishing the goal I set for myself at 10-years-old, it all seems worthless now. Humanity was freed from the ruthless wrath of cruel, biological experiments but what kind of victory is it if I have to suffer? If _Levi_ has to suffer because of me? Worthless. Pointless. Meaningless...

And just like that, it hits me. There's only one way to end our suffering, to free us from these clutches that, in their own way, are worse than the titans.

I swivel to the right to find Levi's stood up and moved toward me, his wings quivering ever so slightly.

"What if..." I swallow hard. "What if I...joined you?" I ask, hushed.

His brows immediately furrow. "The hell do you mean by that? How could you possibly-"

"If...if I died, too. I could join you."

Confusion glosses over his eyes. "...what?" I swallow again around the thickness in my throat. My heart is damn near hammering, and I know he can feel it - it has to be part of why he's so dumbfounded. But I wait for him to get it, nervous myself and, honestly, partially not believing myself in suggesting this.

"You're not dying, Eren," he continues, voice edgy with skepticism. "That doesn't make any...sense..."

As he trails off and his eyes widen, his brow relaxing into its neutral position and the confusion being wiped away, I know he's figured it out. I clench my jaw, hold my breath, waiting.

"No," he says firmly. "No, Eren. You can't join me. Not like that. I won't allow it."

His tone teeters on the edge of that of the corporal - hard with authority when his words were absolutely final. I feel it in my chest, but I'm not about to go down without a fight.

"Why?" My own kind of venom has seeped in, now. Not nearly as stern as his, but _stubborn_. My specialty.

It's the first time I've ever seen Levi fight a bit with his words, and he actually somewhat relents. "Remember what I told you? As long as you're still alive and fighting, you'll never let me down. If you do this..." He trails off again, shakes his head. His jaw is set, his arms crossed firmly, but his eyes show something akin to panic, to fear and another kind of emotion I can't put my finger on.

"Even if it's to join you, though?"

And suddenly there's hesitation I didn't expect. He sits back a bit, like he's weighing the options. He wants it too. I can tell.

"Even then," he finally says.

Something about the way he says it has part of me giving in, and I relax a bit myself. "Why, Levi?" My words are little more than a broken whisper now. "I just want to stay with you...but I don't want you to be in pain anymore." Hysteria is rising; I have to suppress it. After another swallow, I say it without thinking. "You promised to stay, remember?"

"Yes. Of course I remember. And don't think I don't resent myself every minute for leaving you. But you dying won't help me keep that promise, Eren. You know that." His eyes flick down to the floor. "Some promises just can't be upheld. Besides, you don't know that your death would allow you to stay with me, anyway. You don't know where it will take you."

_Don't cry._

"To you, Levi. I know that. I can feel it."

A roll of the eyes. "Cheesy lines really don't suit you, kid." But they meet mine again and he steps forward, his hand lifting gently to my cheek. It's so easy to forget how warm he's become, and when he speaks again, his voice is softer than I've ever heard it in such a way that, aside from the words themselves, makes me want to melt and exist inside of it. "I'm not gonna let you take your own life, Eren. It's not worth it."

Suddenly it feels like one of those 'desperate times call for desperate measures' situations. I suck in another breath, and my voice comes out in that same broken whisper.

"But I'm going to die anyway...someday..."

"That's why. Because you will, and then you can find me. You still have time left here. You've got value and your heart is still beating for a reason. You won't be doing anyone a favor by stopping it."

The anticipation, the _thought_ of being without him and that crippling pain breeds more panic.

"What if...I want to die?" I whisper.

"Don't say that," Levi says immediately, loud enough for his voice to echo off the stone walls and all traces of softness gone. "You don't know what you're talking about, Eren. Take it from someone who knows." I cringe. "Existing in this limbo and never moving forward isn't what you want, even for this reason."

I feel myself crumbling; I move to sink down on the end of my bed, my jaw tense and my teeth shut so tight they're nearly grinding together. I don't know how to argue against that. Of course, I could always go against his word and do it anyway...make an excuse to escape his eyes just for a while and use a method quick enough that it'd be too late for him to feel it and come stop or try and save me...

It's like he can sense what I'm thinking, because he moves into my lap, straddling my waist and cradling my head against his chest, a fist curled into my hair.

"This hurts, Eren..." The softness is back. "...but nothing, _nothing_ would compare to the pain of watching you do something like that."

Silent tears are already making wet trails down my face, dripping down onto my bare chest. His words remind me of when I watched _him_ slip away, remind me of the pain I felt because of it, right in that moment. Putting him through something like that intentionally is the absolute worst way I could possibly hurt him.

But letting him go...?

"It doesn't have to be right away, kid. But you know I can't stay forever."

_Can he read my thoughts now...?_

I move my arms around him and hold as tight as I dare - so tight my arms begin to tremble, but I hold on because I don't know how much longer I'll have him to hold onto...


	21. Stitches.

Warmth. The sound of soft breathing. My face is pressed into the top of Eren’s hair as he sleeps quietly in my arms, one of his own arms still hooked possessively around my waist. It’s hard to tell if he dreams; every once in a while his breath will deepen or quicken, his shoulders will tense, and then he’ll relax and let out a sigh as if he’s more comfortable than he’s ever been. The only way to tell for sure are his eyes - if they flick around beneath their lids - but they’re impossible to see at this angle.

Those little things are all that make the random, unexpected flashes bearable. Black tendrils floating through water; deep, deep red eyes; a scene where it’s as if I'm flying through clouds; random splatters of blood; the sound of a titan screaming; heat, and then an unbearable, bitter cold. Scorpions and spiders. Sharp teeth. I don’t know what they mean, but I feel their pull like an almost desperate need for oxygen, and the only reason I haven’t suffocated yet is because I no longer require the stuff.

Each flash comes with a bolt of pain through my bones, down my wings, and pounds in my skull for a few moments before it fades out like it was never even present, and fortunately they aren’t frequent enough to make the pain constant, but I can’t deny each comes sooner than the last, even if just by a hundredth of a second.

As a result, the night seems to last a hundred years, even with the distraction of Eren’s scent. Every second the pull grows stronger. Sometime between the quietest moment of the night and sunrise, a dull ache begins to creep up my legs, beginning at my toes, and only stops at the scars encircling my thighs.

And yet despite this pull, despite my “instincts” telling me this isn’t where I’m supposed to be, I find myself fighting it harder and harder with each new symptom, and it only helps me better realize how damn much I love this kid in my arms. I want to stay with him as much as, if not more than, he doesn’t want me to leave.

And so the night goes by with me running in endless circles in my mind, fighting the instinct and the instinct fighting back. Despite it being evenly matched, it's only for the moment. Because the pain is winning, and I’m too weak to keep this up forever. I am giving in, bit by tiny bit.

* * *

Eren doesn’t wake until several hours after sunrise, and the only way I know is due to the damp lips pressing to my chest.

“Morning, kid,” I say quietly, untangling myself from around him to allow him to stretch. Just as I stand to light a torch and allow Eren’s sleepy eyes some light, his fingers wrap around my wrist.

“Just stay here for a while,” he mumbles sleepily, tugging me back down.

“I'm not going anywhere,” I say, but sink back onto the mattress anyway.

Eren simply hums, tugging me all the way back down before his hands begin their search, starting at my shoulder and moving toward my neck, brushing his fingers softly over my jaw and cheek until he finds my lips. He moves in slowly, only removing his hand to replace it with his own mouth.

“I want as many of those as I can get,” Eren whispers against my lips, “because I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to take them.”

And I can only press close again, kissing Eren tenderly for as long as I can before he’s pulling away for air, and even then I move to pepper his face with soft kisses.

“Didn’t I tell you cheesy lines don’t suit you?” I mumble.

Eren merely grunts before he sits up, stretching his arms over his head and yawning just as his stomach growls. I stand and light the torch, causing him to squint for a moment as he’s passed his shirt and I brush my hand over his hair, attempting to flatten it where my face was buried into it most of the night.

“Breakfast time, hm?”

“Guess so,” Eren mumbles, rising to his feet. Looking up at him, I can’t help a scowl. “What?” he asks, blinking innocently.

“You’re a damn giant,” I scoff, crossing my arms.

And Eren grins. Although small, an actual, genuine smile forms across his lips and truly touches his eyes for a moment before it’s gone again.

“No, you’re just short,” he retorts.

“Hmph. Just go get your breakfast.” I bump him toward the door with a hip. “And meet me in my room when you’re done,” I tell him, walking toward the torch to put it back out. “I have something for you.”

“O...kay…” Eren mumbles. A second later I hear his the tapping of his footsteps as he ascends the stairs.

* * *

I’m perched in the windowsill of my room - one leg hanging outside with a wing draped alongside it, my chin resting on my knee - when I hear the small squeak of the door as it’s opened and turn just in time to see Eren slipping into the room, shutting the door almost soundlessly behind him.

“Hey,” I greet softly as he turns around.

“Hey.” He approaches slowly.

“How was breakfast?”

“Fine.” He’s halfway to me when he spots what’s sitting on the foot of the bed and stops, eyes narrowing in confusion, maybe a little suspicion. He glances back to me like he’s expecting an explanation, but I offer none. He carefully steps toward the bed, evidently unsure, before reaching out to rest the tips of his fingers on the edge of the hand-woven basket. I can see him swallow as a warm breeze pushes into the room. His hand moves forward and his fingers pinch an edge before he lifts one of the airplanes from the others.

He doesn’t know what to make of it as he unfolds it slowly, his face relaxing just a bit as he takes in what’s drawn on the inside of the carefully folded piece of paper.

“You kept them,” he says quietly.

“Every last one.”

He swallows again. Folds the paper back up after a moment and delicately places it back among the others. His fingers move back to the edge of the basket and trail along the rim.

“Did you make this?”

“Mhm.”

“How...did you know how?”

“Had a lot of time on my hands.” I turn into the room, tucking my wings in but enjoying the warmth of the morning sun against them. “I made several...the more planes you tossed out, the more I had to accommodate for.”

“Wow…” I see his lip pull between his teeth as he takes a tentative seat at the corner of the bed. “Why did you bring these?”

“They’re yours,” I tell him simply.

Eren’s head shakes, slow and small at first as his gaze travels up to me and then hard enough that his hair flies a bit. “No...they’re...they’re yours, Levi. I drew them for you. Folded them and sent them to _you_.”

I stand and move in front of him, taking one of his hands to pull him onto the floor with me, dragging the basket along as well. “Look through them with me, then.”

“What for?” he asks, hesitant.

“Just because.” I pluck up the one he had a minute ago and gently unfold it. It’s of a line of soldiers, capes blowing in imaginary wind as they salute, but their faces are blurred out. Smudges mark it up all over, mainly his fingerprints. I remember him drawing this when he was on the verge of blanking out…

“Gunther.” He places a finger on the one on the right end. Moves it to the left. “Erd.” Moves it again. “You.” Pauses for a moment. “...Petra. Auruo.”

I can feel myself holding my breath. Underneath and between the ones who are supposed to be myself and Petra was clearly something else that was erased with vigor and drawn over. It takes little observation to know it was supposed to be another soldier, one taller than both Petra and myself.

I place my finger on it. “You.”

I see Eren shake his head out of the corner of my eye. “I didn’t deserve to be part of that squad.”

I catch his gaze. “And what the hell makes you think that?”

“I killed them.”

In a sharp, quick movement, I catch him by the jaw, turn his head toward me, and smash my lips into his. He reels for a second before he kisses back, but his response is hesitant.

“You’re an idiot. I told you never to regret your decision because you only know the outcome once you’ve made said choice. It’s useless, and dwelling on it isn’t gonna do you any damn good.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“Shut up, kid. That’s nonsense.”

A half smile flickers on his face before he looks back at the drawing. I don't want to let him dwell on it any longer, so I quickly and carefully fold it back into a plane and set it aside before going after another. He’s tried to draw even the smallest things that had reminded him of me - of us. Hydrangeas, because he knows I like them. A cup of tea. A pair of bandaged hands. A page shaded entirely black with little specks having been erased, as well as a crescent shape for the moon to be hanging in a sky of stars. Rope and 3DMG. In one, he drew himself sitting atop the wall and behind him is yet another erased figure, although it’s sketched in such a way to make it look as if a ghost is standing behind him, and of course it’s me.

A tea shop, it's sign labeled “Humani-tea”.

“One of the secrets you shared with me,” he murmurs. “Remember?”

We sat in the dining hall on a late night with our own cups of tea, made by him - not very good, a little too sugary, but fitting for him. It’d been snowing lightly, not even sticking yet, when he’d asked for a secret.

_“What do you mean, a secret?”_

_“You know...something you’ve never told anyone before.”_

It’d taken me only a second to think of the answer.

_“When the war is over or I get too damn old to fight anymore, I want to open a tea shop.”_

And I can still picture his smile to this day, and the way he’d asked what I’d call it.

 _“Humanity,”_ he’d said when I told him I had no idea.

_“What?”_

_“It’s a play on words. Get it? Humani- **tea**.”_ Held up his teacup and laughed.

“Of course I remember.” I look at it a while longer. The building is made of wood, a little rounded door and windows looking into a small ‘dining’ area, with tables and random pictures and the front counter with a menu mounted on the wall above it. Behind it he stands, smiling, while I sit on the counter adjacent to him with a cup of tea held up by my fingertips, legs crossed and a neutral expression on my face. It’s by far the most detailed drawing he’s ever done.

The last plane, though, bears solely a drawing of me, propped up in a chair, asleep. When he wasn’t in my room or I wasn't in his, I tended to fall asleep in chairs rather than my bed, but I don’t remember when or how he ever saw me.

“When was this?” I ask. “When did you see this?”

“When you stayed with me in the infirmary,” he clarifies, “after I had my seizure.”

“Ah…” I still don’t remember, but I believe him.

“Levi…” He leans into me, our shoulders pressing together.

“What's wrong?”

His head falls against mine. “Did you see me draw all of these?”

“Most of them.”

“How...how often were you around?”

I grin just a bit. “Sure you wanna know?”

“Yes.”

I snort at how suddenly eager he seems. “Every day. Most nights. Every time on the wall. I heard you talk to me. I didn’t sit in on your therapy sessions, though, after the first two times because I thought it was something you’d want to be kept private.”

“It wasn’t, really…” He picks up my hand, begins tracing nonsensical patterns into my forearm with the very tip of his finger. “I would have told you anything long before I’d tell Thomas.” He practically spits the name.

“You’re just saying that,” I scold. “You know you would’ve pretended everything was fine like the stubborn thing you are, and I would've had to pry the answers out of you.”

Eren doesn’t respond. He lifts my hand to his lips, kissing my palm, my fingers, my knuckles. Remembering what he said about kisses, I look up and turn his face toward mine to kiss him softly yet briefly.

“What the hell have you done to me?” I mutter affectionately, shaking my head a bit.

I can feel his small smile when he kisses me again, this time with much more thrown into it, and for a moment I let it envelop me. The desire of our contact quickly heats up as we press closer and closer, my arms around his neck and his hands on my hips. I let him communicate what can’t be said in words through the motion of our lips without a care or hesitation in the world.

Until the flash comes, hot and quick like a snake striking its prey. It’s hard to tell what exactly it is or why, but it causes me to pull away from him, my teeth smashing together.

“This is...wrong…” I grit out, removing my hands from his neck and curling them into fists in my lap.

His forehead rests against mine. “I'm so tired of hearing you say that…” he breathes.

My eyes open to find his already are. “But it is, Eren. I’m not even alive…”

His breath does a funny, quiet little hitch. “You’re alive to me.”

“You’re delusional.”

“Maybe…” His arms slide around my waist. “But you’re here. That’s all I need.”

And I push him back, looking directly into his eyes as deep as I can without making him feeling violated. I have to engrave this into his head as much as I hate to hurt him. He needs to wake up. “Eren, I’m _dead_.”

“I don’t care.”

There’s something in the way he says it that tells me he’s more aware of the situation than I’ve realized. He does know. He understands it; his sick head isn’t completely mucking up his perception of reality. It truly doesn’t matter to him that I’m not technically _alive_.

Something warm blossoms from the pit of my stomach and travels throughout my body until it reaches my fingertips, my toes, my ears. It tingles - odd, but not unwelcome.

“So you really want this, then?” I allow myself to lean another inch closer, and he follows my lead.

“More than anything.”

“Why?”

On my back, his hands curl up. “Because...I...you mean so much to me.”

The warmth pulses; I press my forehead to his, our faces touching to the tips of our noses. “I know. You mean the same to me.”

“Then what’s wrong?” He holds me tighter. I feel his brow tug toward the middle. “Will it hurt you?”

I exhale slowly. “No. It will hurt _you_ ,” I say slowly, evenly.

Surprise surges through him so fast that even I feel it, his body twitches, and he lifts my head to look into my face. “Me? Why?”

“Because I’m going to disappear someday.”

And the shock is quickly replaced with fear and, more potently, denial, though I don’t need to be tuned into his emotions to know that - it’s written all over his face. “But what if...I can never let you go?” His voice breaks, and with it my heart endures another crack. And what I’ve to say next will be acid on the wound.

“You have to someday.”

“Fat chance,” he mutters, eyes retreating downward like a child.

_Now for salt._

“You’ll find someone else, Eren. Someone who can give you the things I can’t.” Someone alive, I add silently at the end.

“Hmph.” His head falls to my shoulder. “That sounds so cliché,” he complains.

“Shut up.” I tangle my fingers through the hair at the base of his skull. “You know I'm right.”

He sighs. “I still don’t see how having sex with you will hurt me…”

“Because it’ll instill a stronger emotional attachment...and then I’ll disappear…”

“Even if that’s true…”

“You’re not going to give up, are you?”

“How’d you know?”

Without removing my hand from his hair, I lift his chin up and search his eyes for a moment. “I can see that determination burning in your eyes.”

The corners of his mouth twitch. I stand, pulling him along with me, and move onto the bed, sitting us in the center with our legs crossed.

“So you’re giving up trying to talk me out of it?” he asks, a smile creeping its way onto his face. “Just like that?”

“It's amazing how you can be so damn stubborn and oblivious to it at the same time,” I mutter.

His eyes are big and shining. “But you never give up that easily.” I swear I feel it resonate with my soul.

“It’s hard to argue against something I’ve wanted for longer than I care to admit.”

Shock has his eyes widening more and he stares at me for a moment. He swallows thickly - I can hear it, and I don’t miss his eyes glancing down my body. “Me too,” he says finally.

It hardly makes sense but I know what he means; I let myself smile a bit. “Then what are you waiting for?”

It only takes him a second to process before he’s practically shooting forward. He’s probably way too eager, but that’s something we bear in common; I don’t hold anything back.

Eren’s lips are hot against mine. Needy. Almost demanding. I follow his lead with no hesitation, taking him by the shoulders and pressing him back against the headboard, allowing myself more access. His hands scramble for my neck, his breath coming in a deep, labored manner, but he doesn’t pull back to catch it.

Clothes are strewn about the floor, tossed away without a second thought. Beneath my touch, he’s impossibly soft and warm with only a little stubble across his jaw I find I enjoy. Both of us breathe hotly, the sound of breathlessness shattering the silence of the room.

It’s only when I’m hovering over him, his legs spread out and tangled in the sheets, do I feel him shaking.

“What's wrong?” I breathe in his ear, a handful of his hair tangled in my fist while my other hand rests on his hip.

“N-Nothing,” he breathes back.

“Are you nervous?” I nip his earlobe.

“No.”

“Your heart is pounding…”

He doesn’t answer me, but stretches up to nip at my earlobe, graze his teeth and lips over my jaw. His hands slide from my ribs to my back, pulling me down against him before he lifts and hikes a leg around my waist.

When I lift my head to look him in the eyes, they’re begging for me, and I feel it swirl through me and take control in a way words can never hope to describe.

All I can feel is Eren, Eren, Eren. It’s as if the earth itself has stopped turning for us, as if nothing but this exists anymore. His voice seems to surround me, the beating of his heart the only thing keeping any sort of time. His fingers pull through my hair, brush through my feathers, rake down my sides and my back. I can’t tell where my own white-hot pleasure ends and where his begins. Anything and everything else has been forgotten.

Several times we each reach our highest point and then relax a moment, whispering things to each other or simply listening to the sound of each other’s breathing before starting again, dragging this out as long as we possibly can.

The only indication of how long it’s been is the moon having replaced the sun outside the window when he starts to slow down, his fingers gentler on my shoulders as he ceases moving so much with me. His muscles are tense; his breathing has changed. As I lift my head I slow my own pace - though never completely stopping - to gaze down at him.

His whole face is shiny with sweat with strands of hair sticking to the moisture, but the tears making their own tracks are as plain as day. His eyes are puffy and red, and as soon as he sees me looking at him, he turns his head.

“Sshhh…” I move a hand to turn his face back to me, kiss away his tears. Kiss his eyelids and his forehead. Rest mine down against his. “I’ve got you,” I whisper tenderly. “I’m here.”

He lifts his chin to kiss me. Sighs into my mouth. “One more time,” he breathes against my lips.

I hum in agreement, kissing him deeper as his hands tangle through my hair, my own holding his hips as I sit up and increase the pace again. After only another moment, his mouth drops open, his eyes nearly rolling back with the lids fluttering, fingers tangling like vices through the sheets and his back arching off the bed as we’re both brought back up to that absolute, incredible _bliss_. My vision goes white for a moment as we ride it out and I only have a second to shift myself to the side so not to smother him before I collapse into the bed.

It takes him several long moments to catch his breath. When he does, I reach over him for a box of tissues and we clean ourselves off as best we can. His head then rolls toward me before the rest of his body lazily follows. I kiss him once. Twice. He sighs tiredly and curls into me, tucking his head neatly under my chin. Our sweaty skin sticks together; the sheet beneath us is even damp with it, but neither of us minds much. I drape my wing over him, feel him gently kiss my clavicle.

“How you feel?” I ask him; his heart rate is still elevated. “You okay?”

“Yeah…” he mumbles. “I'm tired.” To punctuate his sentence, he yawns.

“Sleep, then,” I say. I begin gently running the tips of my fingers up and down his side; if possible, he relaxes even more and his heart gradually slows back to its normal pace. I can still feel the miraculous amount of love he bears, though, and how all of it’s reserved solely for me. And I can’t fathom it; can’t understand why he feels so strongly about me when I’ve seemed to do nothing but hurt him until now, when all I seem to have left to do is hurt him more. Those feelings are unmatched, challenged only by my own for him.

“Levi?”

“Mm? I thought you’d fallen asleep already…”

“I’m sorry…”

“For what?”

“Bringing you pain you don’t deserve.”

“Eren, it’s-”

“Don’t say it’s not my fault.”

“We’re both guilty of it, Eren. The last thing I want to hear right now is an apology.”

“Then what do you want to hear?”

“Literally anything else.”

Surprisingly, he laughs quietly. “Goodnight, Levi.”

“Night, kid.”

Eren snuggles a bit closer before he relaxes again and my eyes flick up to the window, where the clouds are slowly moving away from the nearly full moon to shine directly into the room and splay out across the bed and over my wing. Not long after, I feel Eren slip into a calm, blissful sleep.


	22. Sunrise.

I wake in a cocoon of inky black feathers, surrounded by heat and drenched in sweat. Already I can tell my muscles are stiff with a dull ache residing in my hips and lower back. Yet somehow I’m content, lying in Levi’s arms with his scent engulfing me.

I move forward just enough to press a kiss to his collarbone and his breathing changes, deepening before his wings shift.

“You awake?” he asks, a palm brushing up my side.

“Mhm,” I mumble sleepily.

“How you feel?”

“Okay,” I say, finally peeling my dry eyes open to the dark room.

“You’re not in pain?”

“Not really,” I manage to articulate past a yawn. “What about you?”

“I'm fine,” he says. “Need anything?”

I pull in a deep breath, stretching my arms and legs out, working on waking myself up. “To pee. And maybe a shower…”

Before I can entirely figure out what’s happening, I’m being lifted from the bed, still concealed by a wing and held in a pair of strong, pale arms.

“Whoa…” Instinctively, I hang onto his neck. “What's this for…?”

“I’m taking care of you,” he says.

“It’s fine...I can walk on my own…”

“Hmph. After last night, I doubt that.”

“Levi…” I complain.

He shuts me up by kissing me, leaving me dizzy, before carrying me into the bathroom and leaving me alone to do my business for a moment. As I’m standing at the sink attempting to wash my hands, the dull ache has morphed into something more like a searing, pinching sensation throughout my hips, thighs, lower back, and ass especially. It’s all I can do to keep myself on my feet…

Levi re-enters without invitation and I yelp, automatically trying to cover myself up before I realize it doesn't matter and that he’s still naked, too. Oddly enough, I’m still trying to keep my eyes away from his body.

“I think a hot bath is in order,” he murmurs, stepping around me to start the water in the tub.

I watch him for a moment as he runs a few fingers beneath the stream, testing the temperature. “Only if you take it with me,” I tell him.

He huffs something of a laugh, turning to light a few candles sitting on the sink before extinguishing the torch and pushing the door shut. Taking this as his answer, I muster a small smile in his direction, only causing a mildly suspicious look to cross his own features directed at me. Before I can question him, though, he’s moving around me to search through some bottles on the shelf above the tub. He chooses a green one - peppermint oil - and pours it into the steaming water. Immediately the smell fills the small room almost dizzying me; Levi cracks the window.

“...Can you feel everything I feel now?” I can’t help but ask.

“Not everything, I don’t think,” he murmurs, watching not me but the water. “But since last night...it’s like some of your thoughts have to be just loud enough for me to hear. And I know you’re in more pain than you let on.”

“You mean you can feel it, too?”

“More or less.”

I instinctively grind my teeth together. On top of his own, he has the burden of my pain, too. Even if it's the good kind. Even if it’s the kind brought forth out of an infinite amount of pure and utter love. Love I hold for only him.

He leans forward again and twists the knobs to stop the flow of water, leaving the room quiet again save for the occasional dripping of the faucet. When I don’t make a move to get into the tub, he turns, a brow hiked up.

“What?” he asks.

My fingers tighten around the edge of the sink; I stare him directly in the eye.

“Are you really Levi?”

Exactly the opposite of what I expect, he relents, his face softening into something akin to uncertainty meshed with sadness. Even his wings droop a bit, and my gut clenches.

“I’m not so sure myself.” The words are hushed and unsure as his demeanor. He’s just opening his mouth to elaborate more when I realize I don't want to hear any more, so I reach for his wrist and pull him toward me, smashing my mouth against his so recklessly I almost miss his chapped lips altogether. A surprised grunt sounds from his throat before he kisses back.

“Let’s just take our bath,” I say.

Levi nods once with a small hum. He leads the way to the tub with my pathetic self limping along behind him, and I detest that he has to lift me up and lower me carefully into the hot, sweet smelling water. Still, the liquid feels good on my skin where his hands were rough enough to leave marks; it soothes my aching muscles and the sigh of relief eliciting from my lips is almost instantaneous.

“Feel better?” Levi asks.

“Mhmm,” I hum, moving over a bit. “Come here.” When he hesitates, I wrap my wet fingers around his and tug. “Please?”

A minute later, I’m leaning against his side and feeling his arms sliding around my waist beneath the water. His wings hang out over the edge of the tub and I feel his chin rest on the top of my head.

I let him wash my hair and he allows me to wash his before we lather up more to scrub off our skin, soft kisses and affectionate gestures here and there in between.

“How you feel?” he asks, hands gentle on my hips, thumbs rubbing circles into my skin.

“Better,” I say, looking down. “It hurts to sit, though,” I admit sheepishly.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was...amazing. More than that. I’m glad I got to have that experience with you...before…”

His fingers push hair from away from my face. “You don’t have to think about that right now.”

But I do. Once my mind has gone in that direction, it’s too late to change its course no matter how hard I try. I suck in the deepest breath I can hold before immediately submerging my head under the water. It’s been cooling off. It fills my ears, but I can still hear Levi’s voice - muffled - saying my name. I stay like that as long as I can, focusing on the growing pull in my chest for new oxygen until it starts to burn and I’m forced to release the air I’m holding and bubbles dance toward the surface. When my chest begins to burn is when Levi pulls me up, gasping, coughing and sputtering for air.

“What are you trying to do, kid?” he asks, clearly appalled. The sounds are still muffled by water in my ears; I shake it out. “Huh?”

“Distracting myself,” I gasp out.

“Dammit, Eren…” He pulls me to his chest as I catch my breath. The inside of my nose feels strangely cool, surely from the peppermint oil.

“S-sorry,” I stutter.

“C’mon, idiot. Let’s get out of this filthy water.”

After having been lifted out and wrapped in a towel, I catch myself staring out the window, seeing as the edge of the sky is ever so slowly fading into a lighter shade of blue that swallows up the stars.

“We should watch the sunrise,” I murmur without thinking.

From in the bedroom redressing himself in nothing but a pair of old worn military pants, Levi says, “From the top of the wall?”

I hum in agreement, wandering into the room myself to find something to wear. Walking hurts more than sitting, and I regretfully have to let Levi help me dress. Once done, we’re on our way.

“You don't...have to carry me the whole way…” I mumble as we exit the building.

“You’re in too much pain to walk that far. I'm fine, anyway.”

I have to admit I enjoy being in his arms, being able to gaze up at him as he walks. The light before sunrise is particularly gray, though there’s not a cloud to be seen. From my angle, I can almost watch the stars fade out one by one as the overpowering light of the sun engulfs them. It makes me feel small, and I tuck my head into Levi’s neck to bury the feeling.

Halfway there it occurs to me…

“So...if anyone saw us, would I look like I’m floating?” It sounds silly, but I want to know.

“Doubt it.”

“Then…?”

“The more I interact with the physical world, the more noticeable I become to others. I think at this point anyone might be able to see me...or notice me a little more than if I were a piece of furniture in the background.”

“Does that mean others might be able to see you now?”

“Maybe.”

I feel my eyes widen. “Then why don’t you show yourself to them?”

As soon as the words are out, I regret them because pain crosses his face for just an instant. Before I can apologize, though, he’s responding.

“Because they’re already at peace with it.” _I've heard that before…_ “If they were to see me and actually believe I’m real, it would only bring their hopes up only to open the wounds all over again.” His smoldering eyes flicker down to me. It takes less than a second for me to understand.

_‘Just like what’ll happen to you.’_ I hear the words in his voice. _‘Only worse.’_

He wants me to let go. I can feel it. It hurts, but I know it’s true, and it’s not for his own selfish reasons. He thinks the longer he’s here, the harder it’ll be for me once I finally do let go - something that, in my mind’s eye, is still impossible. And he’s not wrong. Losing him once was already unbearable. I can’t even fathom enduring it a second time…

We make it to the top of the wall just before the sun is about to break through the horizon. Unlike what can be seen from the ground inside the walls, hovering just above the horizon were long, thin wisps of clouds catching the solar light and reflecting from fiery reds to a blush pink to pale yellow with flecks of grayish-blue sky in between.

Levi sets me on my feet, keeping hold of me until I gain my balance. Keeping hold of his hand, I limp to the edge of the wall, looking across the green of that tiny glimpse of the outside world the location allows me.

“Sit with me,” I murmur after a minute, carefully sinking down, letting my legs hang off the edge of the wall. Levi follows my lead and we lean together, his wing circling around me while I can only slide an arm around his waist. Still, it’s comfortable despite the aching of my pelvic area.

We sit in silence for quite some time, watching how the light changes the colors of the clouds and takes over the sky, listening to each other’s breathing, feeling the cool air wash gently over any exposed skin. I savor this moment and hold onto it with aching muscles. I try not to shake, thinking about the way this may be one of the last moments I’ll ever get like this. Try not to cry. Try to keep my heart at a slow, even pace.

But I’m sure Levi can feel my struggles to keep myself in order, anyway.

“Eren…” he murmurs into the hair just above my ear.

“Hmm?”

“About what you asked earlier...if I’m still me...I want you to know that I am. I’m still Levi. I’ve got the same memories, and I still feel the same for you as I did then. More than that, if anything. But that doesn’t necessarily mean I’m the same as I was then.”

“What do you mean…?”

“I mean I’m me, but I’m not the Levi you knew when I had my own heartbeat.”

My forehead is tight with a frown. “I’m...still not sure I get it…”

“Death changes you, kid.”

I can’t stop my flinch. The sun is just starting to peek over the hills. “...oh. Yeah.” A silence. I’m holding onto him tighter than I ever have, and my arm aches. “So that's why you don’t want me to join you.”

I hear him swallow. “There’s more to it than that, but yes. I don't want you to throw your life away when you’ve got all the opportunity in the world.”

It’s my turn to swallow. He moves away only to use his gentle fingertips to turn my face in his direction, and even his eyes are glossy with extra moisture. It occurs to me that I don’t think I’ve ever seen Levi cry.

“Live, Eren.” He says my name carefully, and I feel some sort of finality in it. “Make a life for yourself. Get out of HQ and buy a house. Keep your friends. Find a new drive. Be free the way you always wanted to be.”

_Free_. The word strikes something in me - like a match on sandpaper, igniting it to life.

I pull in a shaky breath. “Maybe…” I hesitate, biting my lip.

“What?” His thumb brushes over my cheekbone.

“No. Never mind. I don’t want to steal your dream.”

“What?” Levi’s thin brows tug together for a split second before relaxing in realization. “...oh. The tea shop.”

The corner of my mouth twitches. “Stupid idea, huh?”

He tilts my head back up; I hadn’t even realized I’d looked down. “No. Do it.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he says firmly. “Since I can’t be around to do it, you should if that's what you want to do.”

“A-are you sure?”

“Certain.” And I can see it in his eyes. He is.

“Thank you.”

Levi simply kisses my forehead. While it's tender, it’s full of a kind of desperation. The longer time goes on, the more restless he gets. Every so often his wings will twitch and he’ll zone out for a minute, or his muscles will tense or he’ll tremble.

This will be the hardest part. Letting him go. Being without him and having to face the mess of painful memories in my head again. It has me wanting to shut down just thinking about it…

But I can’t. For his sake, I can’t do that again. If I do, this whole thing will have been for nothing. I was granted just this little bit of extra time with him for a reason, and I was a fool if I ever thought he’d be able to stay by my side forever.

It will hurt like hell. No matter the outcome, there will be pain involved. For him or for me. Maybe even for both. And Levi’s already endured enough. If it means being in pain myself, I want to be able to free him from his. It’s the very least I could do for someone who’s given me so much - trained me, looked out for me, loved me, and let me love him back. And hell, I _hate_ it. But I can’t be selfish anymore.

“What’s the matter?” he’s asking, palms against my cheeks, and I come out of my thoughts to find my face screwed up into an odd position.

“It’s just...it’s hard to deal with the demons in my head...I don’t know how to fight them off, and I don’t know if they’ll let me live that way. I don’t know if it’s worth trying if I’m only gonna be brought to my knees again.”

“You’re an idiot,” Levi mutters, and suddenly a sharp pain hits my forehead, blunt and quick. He freaking _flicked_ me.

“Hey,” I mutter, rubbing the assaulted space. “What was that for?”

“You’re stronger than that and you know it, kid. _I_ know you are. You just doubt yourself too heavily.”

“You sound like a father talking to his child,” I mumble.

“Oh, shut the hell up. You’re just being a _brat_.” The word sends hundreds of memories flying by in the blink of an eye; oddly, they don’t hurt or make me feel sick. “Man up and show those damn demons who’s boss,” he continues. “You have to fight to win, Eren. Remember who said that to begin with.”

I suddenly recall Thomas lecturing me on taking my own advice and the reality as a whole of the situation hits me like a brick being thrown directly at my head, and words will never do it justice.

As the sun has fully made its way out of its bed beyond the horizon, I can feel its rays caress my skin as I throw myself at Levi, completely ignoring the pinches of pain that shoot through my lower abdomen, and claim his lips for my own. Hot tears make trails down my cheeks and his hands aren’t exactly gentle on my ribs as he kisses back. I can practically feel myself swimming in bittersweet emotion, in all the endless love I hold for him and him alone.

_I’m going to miss him so much._

“I know, kid,” he breathes into the kiss. “I’ll miss you more.”

I lock my arms tightly around his shoulders, breaking off to breathe and regain control of myself. “Just...please give me a little bit of time,” I stammer past my tears. Just as the night before, he kisses them away. “I’m...I’m not sure how to let you go yet…”

“Okay, Eren. Okay.”

I mash my lips again to his, forcing my brain to memorize these sensations and tuck them away in the safest spot in my mind - with my memories that the sickness in my head won’t ever allow me to let go of. If I have to deal with the bad ones, I deserve to hold onto the good ones, too.

_This is what he meant by fighting the demons._

“ _Levi_ ,” I whisper against his lips. He kisses me again; I pull back just enough. “I love you.”

“I know, shitty brat.” I can’t help but smile. “I love you, too. More than you’ll ever know.”


	23. A Feather in the Wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second to last part.

Thomas gazes at me with faded eyes, almost sizing me up like he’s trying to figure out the meaning of my question.

_How to you let go of someone who’s passed?_

His elbows rest on his desk, his hands together with his fingers interlocked, his eyes staring at me from over top of them. Levi stands directly behind me; though I can’t see him, I can feel him. Every once in a while I swear I see Thomas’s eyes flicker up, almost like he thinks he sees him too, but can’t be quite sure. My own eyes rest steadily on him, waiting for an answer.

“Are you asking...how you should let go of your grief?”

“...sort of, I guess…”

The old man sighs and lowers his hands. “That’s a difficult question to answer,” he says evenly. “Everyone’s unique, so everyone grieves differently.”

I swallow. I have to find a way to put this as to not give anything away but to tell as much of the truth as possible. “I guess...I guess I want to know how to accept that he’s gone,” I say, knowing well that Thomas knows who I mean. “And to...to know how to move on...I guess…” I mentally cringe at the way I ended the sentence the same way I started it.

Thomas’s gaze holds steady with mine, but the corners of his wrinkled lips turn down fractionally. “You won’t like the answer I have for you.”

My stomach clenches. Levi makes a noise behind me, and I brace myself - mentally and physically, the muscles in my abdomen tightening. “I can handle it,” I tell him. I surprise us both with how even my tone is.

The old man lets out a long breath through his nose, removing his hands from his desk entirely. “Live,” he says. “Move on with your life, and then you can let go of the past. Find something to occupy your time - something you enjoy, that will mold your mind to think less about then and more about now, and the future.”

“You mean...distract myself?”

“No. I mean _live_.” His hands come up and curl into fists like he’s gripping something invisible. “Life doesn’t stop for anybody, and the best thing you can do for yourself is drift along in its flow. Have new experiences. Make new memories. Unstick yourself from all the pain in your heart and tell yourself you can overcome it. Wake up every morning with that thought in your head and tell yourself you can’t be chained down, and continue to tell yourself that until you _aren’t_ chained down.”

My throat seems to close up and I direct my attention to my feet. “Does that mean...I have to forget…?”

“No, absolutely not,” he says enthusiastically. “Remember it, but don’t let it be a weight that holds you back. Don’t let those memories anchor you to the past and keep you from living in the present, or you’ll miss everything and end up with a world of regret later.”

_Regret_. The word hits home. I have to force myself from looking back at the winged being behind me despite there being no need. Levi agrees. I can feel it in my very bones.

“And if you have to, keep drawing,” continues Thomas, “but keep moving. And I think your first step is moving out of that castle.”

I glance back up. I've known that. Levi told me the same thing. So has Mikasa, and several others.

“Tea shop,” I say; the words have left my mouth before I even had a chance to think them through.

“Hm?”

“One of Levi’s secrets was that he wanted to open a tea shop…but he never got to. I want to do it for him.”

And Thomas’s proud smile is bigger than I’ve ever seen it.

* * *

“Hey, Armin,” I say later the same evening at dinner. The blond stands next to me stirring his steaming pasta.

“What's up, Eren?” he asks with a cautious smile.

I occupy myself with pulling down a box of tea bags and sorting through to find the flavor I want. “I’ve got...kind of a strange question for you,” I begin.

“I’m listening.”

Select a bag, pull them from the box and replace it in the cabinet. “Do you have a plan? I mean, for the future?” Place the bags in a mug and wait for the kettle to whistle. “Like, are you ever going to move out of here?”

“Eventually,” he says before filling his mouth with noodles. “Why do you ask?”

“I’ll explain in a minute. But do you plan on doing research on the titans for the rest of your life?”

“Well, my ultimate goal is to explore the outside world as thoroughly as I can before I can’t move anymore,” he says with a halfhearted chuckle.

“Ah,” I say, trying and failing to hide my disappointment.

“What’s this about all the sudden, Eren?” he asks, eyeing me through the dissipating steam.

Buying time, I pour the water into my cup and place the kettle back down to cool off and absently stir my tea with a spoon. As I turn to face Armin, Levi comes into view out of the corner of my eye, sitting with his legs crossed on one of the tables.

“I wanna move out,” I say; Armin isn’t completely able to hide his surprise. “And I think I’m gonna try and open a tea shop.”

“A tea shop?” he asks in bewilderment.

“Yeah.” I glance up; his big blue eyes are clearly confused and he’s neglecting his noodles. “For Levi.”

“Oh…” he murmurs, face relaxing slightly, eyes drifting away for a moment.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to join me,” I go on. “But you’ve got your own plan, so I won’t ask you to mess with that just for me.”

Armin hums, going back for another bite. I blow on my tea and lift it to my lips. I have to suppress my yelp of pain as the hot liquid assaults my tongue, and Levi rolls his eyes; I just ignore him. I’m about to tell Armin goodnight and head back to either mine or Levi’s room when he speaks up again.

“That actually sounds fun,” he says. “I think that’s a good way to uphold his legacy. I mean, the man’s blood was practically tea.” From the corner of my eye, I see Levi uncross his legs and lean forward in Armin’s direction and I have to take another sip of searing tea to stop myself from laughing too hard. “And it’d be nice to work with my best friend again.”

My cup nearly slips out of my grasp. “B-best friend?” I stammer, not even bothering to hide my shock.

“Yeah, why?” Armin says around a smile. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just I thought...you didn’t see it that way anymore...because I’ve been so distant…” I trail off, getting a small taste of that regret Thomas was talking about.

“Eren,” Armin states matter-of-factly, “You’ve been my friend since we were kids, and you always stood up for me. You even yanked me out of a titan’s throat. No matter what happens between us, you’ll always be my best friend.”

I press my lips together for a moment. “You shouldn’t be so forgiving,” I say. “I’ve been a shit friend.”

He shakes his blond head. “It’s nothing to worry about now. It just makes me happy that you’ve come back and decided to ask me to accompany you in this tea shop business. And I accept.”

“Wait, seriously?” I plop down onto the chair beside him. “But you’ve already got plans…”

“They can wait,” he says. “I’m still young. I’ve got plenty of time to explore. Plus, I still need a while to get ready for that, and Hanji and I have found we’ve got enough research to last us for years, if not decades. As long as you’re okay with my doing research on the side, I’ll gladly work with you.”

My smile is small, but it’s more natural than it’s been in a long, long time.

* * *

“I don’t deserve him…” I mumble into Levi’s neck later that night as we lie across his bed. “I don’t deserve anyone.”

“You’re full of shit, Eren,” he mutters, running the very tips of his fingers up and down my bare spine. “He’s your best friend.”

“But I’ve fucked it all up in the past couple years. I don’t understand how he can just accept me back into his life almost like nothing ever happened.” I shiver as he brushes over that one sensitive spot; my skin is a mess of goosebumps.

“He’s happy you’re coming back. He’s missed you.”

“Hmph. How do you know?”

“You mean you couldn’t tell?”

“What? No…”

“You’ve still got a long way to go, kid…” His lips press against my hair and his palm presses to the middle of my back. “But you’re gonna be okay.”

My heart clenches. I can feel the goodbye in his words, and it’s the most bittersweet thing I’ve ever tasted.

“So what’re you gonna name the tea shop?” he asks after a while.

“I don’t know...I thought I’d just keep the title we talked about earlier.”

“Humani-tea, huh?” He snorts.

“Unless you want it to be something different.”

“No. Keep it. I like it.”

“Okay.”

“You’ve got a lot to learn, though. There’s more to tea than just making it, and you’re not even that good at that. I’m glad you recruited Armin.” I smack his shoulder. “He’s not the best, either, but at least his has _flavor_ ,” he continues. I pinch his bicep, but he’s unaffected. “Yours is so weak it’s practically water, and--”

I stretch my neck up and plant my lips right into his, ending his sentence right there. His lips mold to mine so easily and I dive right in for more until my lungs are screaming for air.

* * *

I sleep very little in the next few days, stretching out my time with Levi as long as I possibly can. We visit the top of the wall every night for the better part of a week, and unless it’s absolutely necessary, I never let go of him. Still, I can feel him starting to slip away; the more I plan things with Armin and have something to look forward to, the less he’s _there_. Physically, he stands next to or behind me, but more often he seems to zone out, staring off into space with a blank look on his face, and I can't help but wonder if that’s how I look when I blank out. I keep pulling him back, but it happens more often, and he’ll fade out of speaking in the middle of his sentence and forget what he was talking about. His wings will twitch and shake at random moments, his feathers quivering almost like he’s cold despite his extra body heat.

It hurts. It physically hurts in my chest to watch him like this. And the more it happens, the more I realize this isn’t where he’s supposed to be, and the more I seem to resent myself for holding him here so long.

“Don’t,” he says as we’re sitting in his window sill instead of atop the wall, my head on his shoulder and his arm protectively around my waist, his head leaning down against mine.

“Don’t what?” I mumble sleepily; it’s been a day and a half since I last slept, and I only dozed off for a couple of hours. Needless to say, I’m exhausted, but I will keep myself awake as long as I can.

“Hate yourself because of me.”

“Why?”

“Not worth it.” His sentences continue to shorten…

“Do you hate me?”

“No. ‘M glad I could spend this time with you.” His words slur more, like he’s tired as well…

“Me too.”

I feel lips in my hair, and something wet suddenly soaks into the cloth of my shorts on my thigh. Confused, I look up; none of the wispy clouds floating by could possibly be carrying rain, and that’s when I spot the wet trail down Levi’s cheek. I immediately sit up straighter and reach for him.

“What's the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie.”

His hand comes up to wipe across his eyes, but more tears seep from his ducts. I can’t fathom any reason he’d be crying; he’s Levi. He doesn't cry often at all.

_He’s really slipping away from me again…_

So I cry with him, wrapping my arms around his waist and holding on for what feels like the last time, as much as I don’t want to believe it. I inhale slowly and deeply in an attempt to memorize his scent and hold it within me forever.

“You...should get some sleep,” he tells me once the tears have slowed and our breathing has mostly evened.

“Come with me,” I mumble into his neck.

“Always,” he says. And it sounds so un-Levi-like, but it warms something within me.

We somehow make it to the bed without letting go of one another and curl up around each other. We don’t bother with the covers, so he simply covers me with a wing while I reach up to peck his lips, not expecting it to turn into something long and tender and absolutely bittersweet but appreciating the fact that it does anyway.

He starts humming, too, and I let the sound lull me to sleep, but not before hearing it - the final, beautiful declaration in my favorite voice.

“I love you, Eren.”

* * *

It’s cold. I don’t search the sheets for the warm skin or feathers. The bed feels entirely too empty. Loneliness washes over, but so does peace. Outside, I can hear the breeze pulling through, and I think I hear wind chimes - ones I’d never noticed before.

I don't have to open my eyes to know it, but I do anyway. The sheets stretch out in front of me, empty. The only trace of someone having been there are long since cooled off wrinkles. The bed ends, there’s a gap, and the wall stretches up to the open window. It’s early afternoon.

I sit up, staring out. Part of me wants to cry, another wants to laugh. I do neither, but move to the edge of the bed and stand. Take two steps to be between the fluttering curtains. The air smells nice - sweet, crisp, fresh. It's a cool day for mid-summer.

I look out past the tree, to the fields. Let my eyes wander up to the sky for a moment before looking back down.

In the window sill lays a single black feather. I pluck it up and twist it between the pads of my thumb and forefinger, watching it glint in the light.

“I love you, too, Levi,” I whisper to the wind.


	24. Epilogue - Freiheit.

Eren stares down at his hands, worn from use and slightly wrinkled from age. The scars made by his own teeth have faded over the years, but they'll never go away completely. They remind him of big black wings and stormy gray eyes - things missed but never forgotten.

Between his palms he holds a sketchbook, it's pages slightly yellowed and its cover worn and faded, the spiral holding it together slightly bent. He calculates in his head how old it must be, and decides it's held up pretty well over the course of forty years. It, along with a dozen or so others, had been stashed away in the closet of his room in a box, safe and sound. It wasn't the first, but if he remembered correctly, it was one of his favorites.

Gently, he lifts the cover to reveal the first drawing - simply the design of his first thought on how he wanted the sign for the tea shop to look. It's scratchy and messy, but it brings back fond memories of getting the place into the works. The second drawing is a general floor plan he'd mapped out in his head, and the rest of the pages contain similar things - plans, plans, plans. Some that had stuck and still remained in that small wooden building inside Wall Rose, over a thousand miles from where he lived now, run by Lilly Arlert and her soon to be husband whose name Eren can never seem to remember. She'd volunteered to continue its business, even said she might try and expand if it was okay with Eren and her father, and they'd left it totally up to her, so long as she kept the legacy alive.

Eren had remained close to the tea shop as long as he could, just as he traveled to the top of the wall as long as it was physically possible for him. After sustaining surgery and being told he needed to take it easy, he retired and moved outside the walls with Armin in the guest house. After Armin's wife had died, he allowed Eren to move into the main house with him where there was nothing to block the spectacular view of the ocean, and if not for their age, it would've started to feel like the days they lived together when the shop was just getting started, and Eren's content with it. They both are.

On the last page of the book is simply the sketch of a wing, somehow bringing forth more nostalgia than any of the other sloppy sketches.

_Levi._

Eren can still feel the tightening of his throat at the thought of the name - one he hasn't spoken in decades. He can still feel the ache of emptiness in his chest where his raven-haired companion is supposed to be - physically, right there next to him.

And yet he can still smile at the memory of him. At the fact that somehow, whenever he speaks with the intention of Levi being able to perceive his words, he knows the man can in fact hear him.

Eren glances up. In the window sill still sits the glass bottle, sealed with a cork, containing that jet black feather. It's a reminder to Eren - whose head is still foggy from PTSD and simply old age - that he really had come back and given Eren another little piece of hope and peace. And a reminder that Levi loved him, at least back then.

The saddest of smiles gracing his lips, Eren replaces the sketchbook back on top of the others and pushed the box aside, deciding it was late and he'd look through them another day. After readying himself for bed, he crawls in and let himself relax into the mattress, feeling the pacemaker keep a steady rhythm for his heart and counting the beats as he always does until he drifts into a quiet, peaceful sleep from which he would never wake.

* * *

"You're just in time."

"Did you expect me to be here any later?"

"No. Not with the way things have been going for you. But I hoped you'd stick around at least a little longer."

Eren's eyes are on his feet, bare in the white sand as the tide washes gently over his toes. The water is calmer than he's ever seen it, even with the air free of wind and the sun sinking towards the horizon.

"The ocean, huh?"

"Your favorite place."

He smiles, looking up. "Of course that's why."

"Was I wrong?"

"No. But the setting doesn't matter much, don't you think?"

"I've been here all along, Eren. To feel closer to you."

His head swivels to his right; he's grinning widely.. "I missed you too."

Levi doesn't return the smile,, but he's never been much of a smiler. His eyes say all Eren needs to know, though. His chest is still bare and he wears nothing more than torn denim shorts, his wings hanging lazily from his shoulder blades so that the tips brush the sand.

He turns, taking the four steps it takes to stand directly in front of Eren, gazing up at him all the while. His hand lifts and extends toward Eren - resembling the appearance he bore in his early twenties rather than the way he looked when he passed - who expects to be touched on the cheek or shoulder and is surprised when his hand goes further than that, brushing over something else entirely, and that when Eren _feels_ it. The extra weight on his back, the extension of some other limb-like thing he's never felt before. He gasps and whips his head around to find Levi's fingertips stroking down a giant white _wing_.

And suddenly he's aware of the extra muscles, the extra nerves extending back, and they twitch. Just as his lips pop open to speak, Levi's talking first.

"I'm not surprised yours are white," he says softly.

"H-huh?"

"White generally represents purity." He brushes the feathers just once more before dropping his arm at meeting Eren's eyes again.

The brunette brings his wings forward a bit, looking more closely at them. They truly are a flawless white, almost glowing even in the dimming light. He stretches them out, tucks them in, testing. Shrugs. To him, Levi's are still more beautiful - dark and mysterious, but powerful at the same time. And they suit him. They always have.

And suddenly it becomes impossible to resist throwing his arms around the shorter male, tucking his head into his shoulder and holding as tight as possible. Even his wings follow the motion, wrapping themselves around him as if that would help him hold onto Levi forever. In turn, Levi's arms slide around his waist, his face buried in Eren's shoulder.

After Eren ceases feeling the cool tide washing over his feet, he pulls back, tilting Levi's chin upward. The other meets his gaze steadily, the corner of his lips just barely tilting up.

Eren had never felt this light or this free. Had almost forgotten what it feels like not to have the uneven thunking of a malfunctioning heart, or how it feels to so easily pull fresh air into his lungs. He smiles himself, causing Levi's to widen as well.

Suddenly Levi finds himself being tackled into the sand with a pair of lips crashing into his own, sending a shock of surprise and a thrill to rocket down his spine at the same time. Eren is everywhere - his warmth and his wings as his lips move together against Levi's.

Once Eren rolls off, they remain there, talking and exchanging affectionate gestures, making up for lost time where time didn't seem to exist at all, save for the sun eventually disappearing to reveal an entire galaxy of stars.

"You never got married," Levi whispers at one point.

"I never found anyone," Eren whispers back, mildly preoccupied with tracing Levi's ribs.

"That's a lie. You found a few. And you almost did marry one of them." Eren swallows, saying nothing. "That dark-haired woman, remember?"

"Of course I remember her. And I realized I was never really in love with her."

"Why not? She loved _you_."

"I know." Eren pulls his knees up, curling into Levi's side, wings spread out behind him. "And I'm still mad at myself for hurting her."

"Why didn't you love her?"

The brunet's fist presses over the spot where Levi's heart used to beat steady and proud. "I realized...that I only wanted to marry her because she was the closest thing I found to you."

He feels Levi's body go suddenly stiff for a moment. His fingers card through Eren's hair and his other hand lifts to tilt his chin up to see his face, giving him the tenderest of looks.

"It's not like it matters now anyway," Eren murmurs with a small smile, dismissing the conversation and moving on to something else.

It's only when the sun is beginning to rise again that it hits Eren and he jumps up. The water is still calm, the light shines from behind them and he's tugging on Levi's hand, urging him to stand.

"What are you suddenly so excited about?" Levi mumbles, but doing as asked anyway.

"I think I figured it out," Eren responds excitedly, pulling his companion right down to the water and wading in without a second thought. It's cooler than before, and Eren takes a brief moment to realize he, too, wears nothing but a pair of shorts. He moves in until the water is halfway up his calf; he searches the surface for his reflection. Once the water has calmed back down, he sees his and Levi's faces clearly against the backdrop of the dawning sky.

"Figured what out, kid?"

"Our wings," Eren says.

"What about them?"

"Hold your wing up. Extend it as high as you can," Eren tells Levi. The raven gives him a quizzical look before doing as told, his wing reaching almost twice his height into the air. Smiling, Eren says, "Now stay there." He begins moving away - sidestepping to the left a ways before stopping and doing the same with his right wing, holding it right against the front of Levi's so they overlap.

And when the water calms once again, they see it. Their eyes meet in the reflection.

_"The Wings of Freedom."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This doesn't feel exactly the way I wanted it to, but I guess that's okay. Thank you to everyone who read this, commented, and left kudos on it; it means more than you can possibly imagine. I hope you like the way I ended it, too; there were a couple ways I was considering, so...yeah, haha.
> 
> I can probably go through and find some trivia about it if you guys want me to post another part with that xD But as always, let me know what you thought. ♥


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